


Look Me in the Eye and Say it to My Face

by Java_bean



Series: It's the Thought that Counts [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, I'm gonna give you three guesses on who it is, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, a burn so slow like one of those rotisserie chickens, also sorry about yet another silly title, but they ARE endgame, more than just a touch in this one sorry, so not much romance to be had here, titles are hard man, yeah so like with the other one in this series this is less a sokka/zuko and more just zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_bean/pseuds/Java_bean
Summary: “What’s that?” Zuko leaned over Lu Ten’s bare, sand dusted chest and poked the inside of his bicep.“What, this?” He held up his arm and nodded to the characters etched in black ink on his skin. “It’s my soulmark.”Zuko tilted his head, confused. “Soulmark?”“Yeah.” Lu Ten nodded. “Has no one told you about those yet?”Despite being a prince, Zuko didn't have an easy life. He worked hard to get everything he had. When he turned ten and finally got a soulmark, something only his cousin Lu Ten had gotten in the family, he thought things were going to get better from then on out. It didn't take him long to realize that wasn't true.It wasn't until he was thirteen that he realized how wrong hereallywas.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), minor Mai/Zuko - Relationship
Series: It's the Thought that Counts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875496
Comments: 68
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Zuko's here! 
> 
> Just so you know, you don't have to read part 1 of the series to read this part. The first one is about Sokka's soulmate journey/character stuff and this one is, of course, Zuko's perspective. I'm going to try to keep both updated kinda interchangeably. 
> 
> Anyway thank you in advance for reading and I hope you like the fic! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!!! 
> 
> Sorry this took so long lol. This actually got away from me a bit (this chapter and chapter two were supposed to be...all one chapter...it was a LOT more than expected). I'm also going to apologize in advance because this is gonna have a lot of angsty emotional stuff you know how it is. 
> 
> Most of this chapter (and the second one) focuses a lot on Zuko's relationship with Lu Ten and Azula when he's between age 5-7. I ended up with way more Lu Ten in this than I'd originally planned so hopefully he's enjoyable to read. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks in advance for reading!! I hope you like it :D

Zuko’s first full memory was from a time when he was five years old. They were on Ember Island, and he was running away from someone, towards the shoreline where the waves were crashing and spraying salty ocean foam across the hot sand. He was breathless and laughing as the person behind him gave chase, always two steps away from catching him but never close _enough_. 

At least, they weren’t close enough until he tried to escape into the water. 

“Whoa there, kiddo!” Just like that, Zuko was caught. He was scooped right out of the water and into Lu Ten’s arms. He was still giggling as he squirmed in his cousin’s hold and tried to get down. Lu Ten’s grip was too tight around him to break so easily. “Not so close to the water! That’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”

Lu Ten was using his serious voice. Soft and low, a voice that Zuko didn’t hear often but knew he should listen to. Zuko stopped laughing and moving around and looked up at Lu Ten. He didn’t look angry, but the playful smile Zuko was used to seeing wasn’t there. Zuko knew that he was waiting for a response, so he did his best to copy his cousin’s expression and nodded. 

He snorted, and the serious face was gone. That was good, something about that expression on Lu Ten’s face always made Zuko feel bad. He didn’t have the words to express the feeling exactly, but he knew he’d do whatever he could to make it go away.

Zuko was put back on the ground, but he was having second thoughts about running around. Lu Ten had caught him, and now he just wanted to stick by his cousin instead. So when Lu Ten put him down, Zuko held onto his hand as tight as he could.

“Done running around, are we?” Lu Ten asked. Zuko nodded. “Did you want to go back up to the house?”

He shook his head. Lu Ten snorted again and squeezed his hand. 

“I’m not a mind reader, Zuzu, if you have something you want to do, you need to say it.” 

Zuko nodded, he knew that. He just had a hard time using his words to explain things sometimes. If he didn’t have to say it, then he wouldn’t. Everyone always wanted him to talk, though, Lu Ten was no exception even if he was more patient than most about it. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t actually sure _what_ he wanted to do. He just knew he wanted to stay with Lu Ten. His cousin already knew that, though, that was why he was playing with him in the first place. 

So instead of actually answering Lu Ten’s request, Zuko said; “Don’t call me Zuzu.”

“I can’t call you Zuzu?” Lu Ten asked, grinning down at him. “Why not?”

“Azula calls me Zuzu.”

“And you don’t like that she calls you that? You don’t like the nickname?”

Zuko shook his head. “ _Only_ Azula calls me Zuzu.” 

“Ah, I see.” He nodded. “So then what do _I_ get to call you?”

Zuko frowned. Lu Ten knew what his name was. “Zuko.”

“I don’t get to call you a nickname?” Lu Ten frowned, but his voice was teasing. He was trying to hide his smile, but Zuko could see it. “I’m hurt, Zuko.”

Zuko continued to frown up at his cousin, standing firm. “ _You_ don’t have a nickname.”

Lu Ten’s frown broke, and he laughed. He clearly hadn’t expected a fight from him about this. 

“You’re right. Tell you what, Zuko, I’ll make you a deal.” He squeezed Zuko’s hand again. Lu Ten’s palm was warm and big, Zuko’s entire hand was swallowed up in it. “I won’t call you by a nickname unless you come up with one for me, too. How’s that sound?” 

Zuko nodded. That sounded fair to him. “Okay.”

“Okay. You know, Zuko, you never said what you wanted to do. Did you want to play some more or are you getting tired?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t tired, but even if he was, he would have lied about it. Saying he was tired meant it might be naptime, and he _hated_ naptime. And bedtime. Zuko just wanted to stay awake and do things all the time. Sleeping was stupid. 

“Okay, so you’re not tired. Did you still want to play?” 

Zuko nodded. 

“Words, Zuko.” Lu Ten urged softly. Zuko frowned, and it made Lu Ten chuckle. “Hey, don’t pout! I just want to know what you want to do! If you want me to guess, then I will, but you _know_ I’m an awful guesser. We’ll be here all night before I figure it out by myself.”

There were a few things Zuko wanted to say in reply to that. 

He wasn’t _pouting_.

Lu Ten was good at guessing! He always seemed to know what Zuko wanted before other people did, sometimes before Zuko himself even knew. 

He still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do right now, though. 

He wasn’t sure which of these he should say, though, and in the end he said none of them. Instead he looked around the beach for something, _anything_ for them to do together. The beach was barren, there was nothing fun that stood out as far as he could see. Zuko kicked at the sand with his foot and huffed.

“Sand?” Zuko finally settled on, looking up at Lu Ten to see if that was a good enough answer. 

It must have been, because Lu Ten was still smiling warmly at him. “Sure, we can play in the sand.”

He dragged Zuko further from the water and up towards an empty spot. Without a word, Lu Ten let go of his hand and promptly fell onto his back dramatically. He threw a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun’s near blinding rays. 

“I know you said you’re not tired, Zuko, but I am a little bit.” Lu Ten sighed. “In fact, I don’t think I can move from this spot. You’re going to have to leave me here overnight while I regain my strength.”

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest and squinted down at his cousin. He knew none of that was true, but he wasn’t sure what Lu Ten was playing at. Lu Ten lifted his hand from his eye momentarily to peek at Zuko’s face, and he was immediately fighting off another grin.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Zuko,” Lu Ten continued gravely, losing the fight against his own smile, “but you’re going to have to bury me.”

Now _that_ was something Zuko could do. He tried his best to mirror Lu Ten’s fake serious demeanor as he set about his new task. Zuko got down on his knees in the sand and started to push as much of it as possible onto his cousin’s legs. Once he had what he thought was a solid amount on, he patted it down with his hands as carefully as he could. 

Lu Ten was older than Zuko. He was sixteen, practically an adult, which meant that his body was big. At the rate that Zuko was almost cautiously covering him with sand, it could take hours before he was fully buried. That was assuming Zuko wanted to do this for that long or if Lu Ten wanted to stay still and let him do that. Honestly, they both would probably keep at it for as long as it took. Zuko was stubborn and had a one track mind. If he was going to do something, he wouldn’t stop until he thought it was good enough. Lu Ten was also stubborn, but incredibly patient. If Zuko needed him to lay there for hours in the midday sun while he buried him as perfectly as possible, he had no problem doing it. 

It was during this burying process, when Zuko had inched his way up from working on Lu Ten’s legs and up towards his middle, that Zuko caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t seen before on Lu Ten’s right arm. 

“What’s that?” Zuko leaned over Lu Ten’s bare, sand dusted chest and poked the inside of his bicep. 

“What, this?” He held up his arm and nodded to the characters etched in black ink on his skin. “It’s my soulmark.”

Zuko tilted his head, confused. “Soulmark?”

“Yeah.” Lu Ten nodded. “Has no one told you about those yet?” 

Zuko shook his head. He had no idea what Lu Ten was talking about. 

“Well, I don’t think your mom will mind _too_ much if I tell you.” Lu Ten hummed thoughtfully, almost to himself. “If that’s something you wanted to hear about, Zuko?”

This was a subject he knew nothing about, so he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear about it or not. He did like listening to Lu Ten talk, though. His voice was strong and kind, just like the rest of him was. Sometimes, if Zuko pressed his face to his cousin’s chest, he could hear it rumble inside him like a thundercloud. He liked that. So, he nodded. 

“Okay, now I just have to figure out how to explain this.” Lu Ten muttered. Zuko almost didn’t hear him, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything or not. Instead of responding, he continued to pile sand onto Lu Ten’s belly. “I got my soulmark when I turned ten.”

He went quiet again. Zuko smoothed the sand out as best he could and waited for him to continue. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who had trouble using his words sometimes. He would give Lu Ten all the time he needed for it.

“Soulmarks are a gift from the spirits.” He finally said. Zuko nodded, waiting for him to keep talking. “But not everyone gets one. Most people don’t.”

“So you’re special?” Zuko asked, tilting his head towards his cousin. Lu Ten frowned and shook his head. 

“No, I’m not special.” 

He knew that wasn’t true. Lu Ten was strong and nice and fun to play with. He was going to be firelord one day. Lu Ten was also Zuko’s best friend. Of course he was special. 

Before Zuko could argue his points, Lu Ten was back to explaining. “What a soulmark _is_ though is a … promise. From the spirits.”

Zuko looked back at his cousin again, wide eyed and intrigued. A blessing was one thing, but a promise from the spirits? He’d heard enough spirit tales to know that was an even bigger deal. He inched closer on his knees towards Lu Ten’s head, previous activity forgotten. He wanted to focus on the story, now. “What’s it mean?”

Lu Ten grinned up at him, and the sun was reflected on his teeth. Really, this was the type of thing he should have known Zuko would get invested in. “It means that I’m destined to meet someone really important someday. And when I do, I’ll think the words on my arm.”

He held up his arm again, holding it at an angle so Zuko was able to get a good look at the phrase written there. He knew that Lu Ten was letting him read it, and he did recognize some of the characters, but he couldn’t tell what it said. He didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t very good at reading yet. Father always seemed mad when he struggled and asked for help with it.

If he asked him to read what it said to him, would Lu Ten be mad? Would he use his serious voice and tell him that it was bad that he couldn’t do it by himself? Would Lu Ten stop playing with him and go back to the house and leave him alone, then? 

He couldn’t ask what it said. 

“What happens after that?” He asked instead. 

“After that,” Lu Ten lowered his arm, “we’ll be together forever.” 

“Do you know who it is yet?” 

“No.” Lu Ten started to sit up, dislodging all of the sand covering his chest and his left arm. For a second, Zuko wondered if he’d asked too much and annoyed him. But then Lu Ten smiled at him again, and he felt better. “When I do, I’ll tell you first.” 

He smiled back at him. “Promise?”

Lu Ten was on his feet, brushing the sand off of himself. He reached down for Zuko’s hand, and he happily took it. “I promise.” 

The two of them trudged hand in hand across the beach and back up to the house.

Time spent with Lu Ten outside of vacation on Ember Island was rare. He was currently second in line for the throne, which meant his day was busy with all sorts of classes and lessons and duties that left him little time to relax, let alone play with his young cousin. 

Luckily, Zuko had another best friend to spend all his time with. 

His little sister, Azula. 

When Azula was small, really _really_ small, it was hard to play with her. She would just lay or sit there and cry and take their mother's attention. That made _him_ want to cry, too and get the attention back. But he wasn't a baby anymore and his father hated it when he cried, so he always tried his best not to. 

Times like that, he would go find his uncle and he'd sit or play with him until he felt better. It usually didn't take very long. When he wasn't near the crying of his baby sister or frustrated because his parents weren't paying attention to him like he wanted, it was easier to remember that Azula was a baby and she _needed_ all the extra love and attention right now. It was also easier to remember that, despite his bad feelings about it sometimes, Zuko loved her a lot. 

Then she turned two, and Zuko realized he didn't just _have_ to love her because she was his baby sister. He could love her because she was a friend, too. 

Azula, even at age two where she was still sometimes unsteady on her feet, was very good at the games he liked to play. And, as she became more vocal and able to voice her own feelings on what to play, Zuko learned that they liked a lot of the same things. 

Azula liked to play chase, but only if she got to chase Zuko because he was bigger and faster and she knew he was doing it on purpose when he didn't catch her almost immediately. She didn't think that was fair and that it was cheating if Zuko pretended he couldn't keep up with her. 

Zuko liked hide-and-seek. He and Azula would sometimes play it with their mother, hiding in places it would be easy enough for Azula to be comfortable in with him and easily found so it wouldn't take long to find them. Sometimes Zuko would play the game with their dad, but that version was different for two reasons. 

1\. Zuko would choose the hardest hiding places he could find, and he would make sure he was never found.

2\. Father never knew they were playing.

Azula didn't like when he played that one, because when Zuko really tried, he could be hiding for hours at a time without anybody finding him. He was proud of that ability until he saw Azula spending a long time looking for him once and she started to cry. He'd climbed down from his spot near the ceiling and ran to her side immediately. Even at four years old, it was rare to see her cry. He didn't like that he'd caused it. 

He tried to hide from their father less after that, if only to keep Azula happy. 

It didn't matter what he did to keep Azula happy, or what games they played, though. Eventually, Azula had to leave him, too. 

He wasn't there when it started, he was heading towards the library in search of their mother when the commotion started. Servants were rushing in the opposite direction. Zuko, curiosity outweighing his quest to find his mother, turned around on his heel and followed the growing crowd.

They were all the way down the hall and about to turn a corner when he finally smelled the smoke. He'd been around fire before, countless times. As a prince of the Fire Nation, seeing fire was an almost daily occurrence for him. Smoke was not a new scent. It was natural. 

But _this_ amount of smoke, _inside his home_ was a little less natural. 

Then he started to notice where the servants were headed. 

He picked up his pace, out running most of the servants and leaving them in his panicked wake. Zuko stumbled to a stop only when his worst fears were confirmed. 

Azula's room was _on fire_. 

The smoke was pouring out in thick, black clouds from the open doorway. He couldn't even see inside, but he knew she was in there. He'd only just left her there. Zuko was reading to her because she said she liked the way he did the voices in the stories best (even though he was just copying how their mother did it, _she_ was really the best storyteller) and she'd fallen asleep so he'd _left_ and- 

And now her room was on fire. 

"Azula?" He ran at the door, but something stopped him and held him back before he could enter. There was no response but the crackling of flame from the blazing room, and his voice picked up in pitch and volume in his fear. " _Azula?_ " 

Zuko was struggling as best he could against what was holding him back, but the strong arms of the guard only tightened around him with every flailing movement. He couldn't hear the way the guard was trying to quiet him down, and he didn't notice the servants who ran into the blaze when he couldn't. Everything in his mind was all consumed by panic over his sister. All he could do was scream until his throat hurt and fight back. 

"Azula? Azula!" 

Then, very quietly, came a cough from the smoke. "Zuzu?" 

Azula was being carried out of her room by a servant. The room itself was no longer on fire, but still smoldering. Azula was covered in ashes and her hair was a loose mess around her. She was coughing harder than he'd ever heard her before. 

When she caught sight of her brother, her eyes were bright with tears. "Zuzu!" 

Zuko was still being held back by the guard, but that didn't stop him from straining against them even harder than before. He stretched as far as he could towards her and reached out his arms to her. In an action that was almost the reflection of her brother's, Azula stretched down and held her arms out to him. 

Azula should have been taken immediately to the palace physician. That was to be expected. Zuko knew his sister was hurt and she was important and had to be cared for immediately. At the same time, she was his sister and she was hurt and Zuko needed to know she was okay _right now_ and the best way to figure that out was to hug her and not let go until someone made him. 

The servants seemed to understand that. They took one look at the siblings struggling to get to each other and immediately released them. Azula was placed gently on her feet, but her stance was wobbly. She didn't even have the chance to fall over on her own before Zuko practically slammed into her, the force sending them both to their knees. 

Zuko held on to her tighter than he'd ever held anything in his life, like if he let go she would be gone in the fire again. Azula felt too warm and her hair smelled like smoke. She hugged him back, but her grip wasn't as strong and she was shaking. Her hands were balled into fists in the back of his shirt. 

Her face was buried in his shoulder as she coughed through her soft sobs. Zuko could feel the fabric of his shirt getting wet, and once he did he couldn't help but start crying, too. 

They stayed like that for a long time before one of the servants tried to pry them apart. Azula really _did_ need to go to the infirmary, and they had to get started cleaning up the remains of the room. Zuko refused to completely let go, only willing to release everything except her hand.

Azula had already stopped crying, but the tear tracks were still visible on her soot covered face when he pulled away from her. He offered her the best smile he could, but it was weaker and more watery than he wanted it to be. He swiped at Azula’s cheeks, cleaning off the evidence. She smiled back at him, and he felt like he could start crying all over again. He tried his best not to, but couldn’t stop himself from sniffling when he looked at her. 

Her face was still a mess. So was the rest of her. 

Father would be mad. 

No, it was best not to think about that. He squeezed her hand, and the two of them were led towards the infirmary. 

The physician prescribed Azula a bath and a cup of nice, hot tea to help clear out her throat and lungs. He also prescribed a nap if she felt like it. 

She protested against that one until Zuko yawned beside her. He'd cried a lot and the emotional toll had been draining. Azula crossed her arms over her chest and declared that she would take the dumb nap, but only if she got to sleep in her brother's bed since hers was burned up now. 

No one dared to persuade her against it. 

While Azula took her bath, Zuko was sent to his room to wait for her. It wasn't even twenty minutes later that she returned to him, scrubbed clean and with her hair already coming loose in her braid. She scrambled up next to him on the bed and sat close. He reached over and touched the braid, it had been done quickly and clumsily. The only explanation for why it would be like that was that Azula wouldn't sit still long enough for it to be perfect, but that was unlikely. She liked when people did her hair, and she was always good about sitting still. 

Zuko had been less good at sitting still, especially around Azula's age. He used to squirm around a lot, but he didn't anymore. Not since dad held him in place with his firm hand on his shoulder and tightened his grip any time Zuko so much as breathed. 

Since then, Zuko could sit still. 

He touched Azula's hair and remembered when he would try to get away with a braid like that, threatening to unfurl at any moment. No one had braided his hair in a long time, not since the servants in charge realized he held his breath to stop himself from moving as they did it. Since then it was only precise top knots and efficiently fast phoenix tails for him. 

Sometimes he missed the braid. 

Zuko's hand hovered over the gold clasp at the bottom of Azula's braid, the only thing keeping it in place. "Can I fix this?" 

Azula nodded, and Zuko shifted so that he was sitting behind her. He undid the clasp and the braid fell apart without much help from him. He combed his fingers through her hair, noting that it didn't smell like smoke anymore. It smelled more like mom's garden, a kind of flower scent he didn't know the name of. 

He'd only just started on the braid when there was a knock at the door. Then their uncle Iroh came bustling in, pushing the door open with his side. His hands were preoccupied with a silver tray that held a teapot and several cups. He looked almost as surprised to see the two of them as they were to see him, which Zuko thought was strange because it was _his_ room the man had just entered. 

“Children,” he smiled warmly as he stepped further into the room, “I wasn’t expecting you two to be awake still.”

Zuko couldn’t see Azula’s face, his attention split between Azula's hair in his hands and his uncle, who was currently setting the tea tray carefully down on his bedside table. He had a feeling she was frowning the same as him, though. 

“It’s barely passed noon, Uncle.” Zuko answered, confused. 

There was a chair in the corner of the room, he watched as uncle Iroh carried it across the room and over to the side of the bed. 

“Right you are, nephew.” He chuckled, carefully pouring the tea out into the cups. “But I heard you both had a very hectic afternoon. It would be understandable if you both needed some time to recuperate.”

Uncle handed a cup of tea to Azula, making sure she had her hands around the cup before he let go. Zuko opened his mouth to ask what some of the words he’d said meant, but decided against it and went back to focusing on Azula’s hair. The braid was almost done. 

“I was also told that Doctor Maozu prescribed my little niece with tea and a nap,” Uncle continued, “so here I am.” 

That made sense. Uncle never passed an opportunity for tea. Zuko finished the braid and replaced the gold clasp on the end. He crawled out from behind her, then, so he was sitting at her right and could actually see her face. She was frowning down at her teacup, looking into it and wrinkling her nose at the scent from the steam. 

Azula didn’t like tea, and Zuko couldn’t blame her. He didn’t like it much, either. Now that his hands were free, though, his uncle quickly pressed the remaining cup of tea into Zuko’s hands before he even had time to protest. 

"Go on, drink up!" 

Neither of them did. 

"What's in it?" Azula finally asked. 

“It’s green tea with ginger and honey,” he explained, taking a sip of his own tea, “it’s good for clearing the throat and lungs. And of course, the sweetness doesn’t hurt.”

Azula, stubborn as she was, continued to look down at her cup but refused to drink. Zuko decided to take one for the team and chance a sip. It was hot still, but not enough to burn his mouth. Uncle was right, the sweetness didn’t hurt, but it didn’t fully mask the spice from the ginger or the light bitterness from the tea itself. 

Uncle and Azula were both watching him intently. He swallowed and tried to keep his face as blank as possible. “It’s good?”

Uncle laughed, the sound was loud and echoey in the big room. “You don’t have to lie, nephew. You not liking the tea won’t hurt my feelings. You are still young, your palette will develop soon enough.” 

Zuko didn’t really understand what his uncle was saying, but it didn’t seem like he was upset that he didn’t like the tea that much. Still, he made a point of drinking it. Azula still looked like she didn’t want to drink it, but after watching her brother drink she took a sip of her own. She stuck her tongue out at the taste, an action that Zuko wholeheartedly agreed with. 

They both drained their teacups slowly. Uncle chuckled as he watched them, refilling his own teacup and offering the pot to them. Azula just glared at it and Zuko shook his head. He could force himself to drink _one_ cup of tea but any more than that was impossible. 

Uncle set the pot back down on the tray and cast his smile down to his steaming cup. The three of them sat in silence for what felt like a long time, and Zuko felt suddenly aware of how tired he was. His eyes felt heavy, and he was warm both inside and out. Usually, he hated naps, but in that moment all he wanted to do was flop over onto his bed and sleep. Azula must have felt the same, because just as he was fighting a yawn she leaned against his side and laid her head on his shoulder. Zuko hooked his arm around hers to support her weight better.

Uncle had an expression on his face that Zuko didn’t understand. His eyes were soft, and so was his smile but it also looked … forced. It was a face that Uncle only made when he was watching Zuko and Azula together. 

“May I ask you something, niece?” He asked quietly. The confusing expression on his face shifted as he turned his gaze away from the both of them and focused fully on Azula. 

Azula rubbed her eyes with her open palm. Zuko wasn’t sure if she’d be able to answer whatever Uncle wanted to say. She nodded anyway, though, her warm cheek rubbing against Zuko’s shoulder. 

With her agreement, Uncle pressed on. “Do you know how the fire started?”

"Mhm." Azula replied, nodding once more. Zuko wondered if she was comfortable like that, but she didn't move or readjust. "I did." 

Uncle's eyebrows came together and he frowned. "You did?" 

Azula shifted, bringing up the arm she had linked with Zuko's and splaying out her palm. Zuko was looking at her hand. At her small, soft fingers. 

Then he was looking at fire. 

He almost pulled away from her, then, struck by surprise and sudden fear at the sight of the small, wildly flickering flame in Azula's hand. Instead, his grip around her tightened. Zuko didn't know much about firebending, but if the little fire in his sister's hand grew out of control he was more than ready to stop it himself. 

Azula, hand holding that tiny, dancing flame, repeated her statement sleepily. "I did." 

It took Zuko and his tired mind a moment longer than usual to piece everything together. Yes, he saw the fire in his sister's hand. Yes, he heard her say she set her room on fire. Yes, he was ready to put out said fire in her hand before it got out of control and set _her_ on fire this time. No, he did not automatically register that his little sister was a firebender. 

Once it all clicked into place, the tiredness was sapped right out of him. 

“Azula!” He gasped excitedly, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. Zuko was nearly shaking her, almost ignoring the fire still in her hand. “That’s amazing!”

Azula grinned, her face glowing as much as the flame. She leaned into his embrace and giggled, her brother’s joy was infectious. 

Uncle leaned forward and gently closed Azula’s fingers around the flame still in her hand, smothering it in her little fist. They both looked up at their uncle, who was smiling just like they both were. His smile wasn’t as big as either of theirs, but it was there. 

“That’s very impressive, my young niece.” Uncle said, his hand lingering for a moment on Azula’s closed hand. “Firebending at your age, especially being able to conjure a full flame, is a feat that is practically unheard of. You should be proud.” 

Azula yawned. “Thank you, Uncle.” 

Uncle pulled his hand away from her and stood. “I believe it’s about time I leave you children to rest. I will let your parents know exactly what went on today, I’m sure they’re both worried sick and as far as I know, _I’m_ the only one with all the details.”

He chuckled to himself as he picked up the tea tray. Zuko wasn’t sure what was supposed to be funny, but didn’t ask. In his experience, questioning Uncle meant getting a proverb that would just confuse him more. Honestly, it was surprising that the talk they’d just had was proverb free. 

With one hand, Uncle pulled open the door. He stepped out quickly and began to pull it closed, leaving the door open just a crack. His voice was barely audible now that they were no longer in the same room together, but Zuko swore he heard him say “pleasant dreams” before he left. There was no way to confirm this, though. 

Now that Uncle had left, it was finally just the two of them. Zuko didn’t spare another moment staying upright and flopped down onto his side, dragging Azula down with him. Her face was pressed into his chest, her forehead positioned right above his heart. His arms were still around her, and she squirmed until she could work her arms out from where they were pinned between the two of them. Once freed, she wrapped them around his middle and squeezed.

“Zuzu?” Azula didn’t lift her head to speak, her voice muffled by his shirt. 

“Mhm?” He mumbled into the top of her head. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, so he closed them. 

“I burned my room.” She said. “Will they be mad?”

Her hands formed nervous, trembling fists in the fabric on his back. Zuko tried to comfort her as best he could, copying the way their mother consoled him whenever he was upset. He held her tighter and stroked her back. 

“No.” Zuko replied. “You bent fire, Azula. They’ll be happy.”

Then he took a breath and answered the question she was really asking. 

“Father will be happy.” 

Azula hummed, and the tense way she held onto him softened. Zuko felt himself relax, too. Their whole lives, father had made it very clear he’d wanted his children to be firebenders. Not just any firebenders, but _strong_ firebenders. Zuko was already seven, and he hadn’t so much as sent out a spark yet. His father had lost all hope in his ability to bend long ago and had instead turned his sights on Azula. The fact that she, a child just two weeks shy of five years old, had conjured a full flame into the palm of her hand, was exactly the kind of exceptional talent their father was looking for. 

Their father would be proud of her. He would have to be.

Comforted by this, Zuko finally fell asleep. 

When he awoke, Azula was gone. 

Azula was gone. She’d been pried right out of Zuko’s arms as the two of them had slept and sent off to hone her newfound skills at an academy far away from the palace. 

When Zuko asked why, his mother remained quiet. She’d looked down at her lap and frowned, unable to meet his eyes. His father had no such problems. He kept his eyes trained on Zuko, and his expression was just as stoney as Zuko was normally used to. 

“So you wouldn’t distract her from her training.” Father said. 

Zuko looked down at the floor, trying to keep his face the same as his father’s. Strong and unreadable. He didn’t want his father to know how badly that hurt. 

“Azula,” he continued, “is a prodigy. She’s only four and already she is capable of flame hot enough to reduce an entire room to nothing but ash. With the proper control she will become a formidable asset to this family. _You_ have proven yourself useless time and time again. You can’t bend. You spend more time playing games and disturbing others than you do actually paying attention to any of your lessons. You are weak and emotional. As you are now, you are a liability to this family.”

Zuko stared at a fixed point on the ground between himself and his mother. He felt his eyes start to burn and willed himself not to cry. That would only prove him right. As much as Father loved to be right, he didn’t like being right about Zuko being weak.

“Since you refuse to better yourself, you may as well stay out of the way of those who _are_ better than you. You are dismissed.”

Zuko bowed low to his father, still not meeting his eye. Then he turned around and left as fast as he could. He wasn’t sure where he was going until he arrived. 

Zuko collapsed under the shade of the big tree in the middle of the gardens and stared out at the pond. The tranquil water was only disturbed by a lone turtleduck rippling the surface as it swam. He tried to focus on the turtleduck and the relative peace of the garden, but even though he’d kept himself from crying his breath was still coming in ragged hiccups and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at the little turtleduck and teetering on the verge of crying but _refusing_ to do it before she found him. His mother approached soundlessly from his left. He could see her familiar robes in the corner of his eye, but he didn’t turn to look. 

“ _Zuko_ ,” his name came out as if it hurt her to say. She sat beside him and opened her arms. Zuko had no choice but to throw himself into them. She had one hand on the back of his head, keeping his face pressed into her chest. With the other she stroked his back, just like she always did when he was upset, “honey, it’s okay now. I’m here.”

He couldn’t do it anymore. The tears were right there, forming at the edges of his eyes and threatening to spill.

“ _Mom_.” 

He could only choke out the one word before he completely broke. 

His mother sat and comforted him, gathered him up into her lap and held him like he was still little. She didn’t say much, only gentle “I know”s and “it’s okay”s, and the occasional hush when his sobbing got the better of him and he had to quiet down. 

In those moments when Father was there, she stayed quiet. There was nothing she could do to stop him. She couldn't stand up to Father, and Zuko didn't blame her because Father could be scary and he knew from experience what he could do. All she could do was be present and wait for things to end.

If Mother ever stood up to him and told him to stop, she might be yelled at or hurt in the same ways Zuko sometimes was. He didn't want that. Zuko's punishments were meant for him only, so they were his to take. 

But when everything was over, his soft and quiet mother would find him. She would hold him tight and listen to what he had to say. Sometimes when he ran out of words to describe what he was feeling (he was still only seven) she would fill the silence up herself. Her calm and soothing voice would recite the details of a spirit tale. Zuko would lean into her and listen, trying to replace the hurt with the story. He never fully succeeded, but he did manage to memorize almost every single tale he was told. 

That used to come in handy with Azula. 

Azula, who was gone. 

Azula, who might never come back. 

Azula had done everything right, and she was being punished because Zuko couldn't do the same. She was amazing, and he was useless. He was distracting and bad at everything. They couldn't risk that rubbing off on her. 

Zuko sniffled and pulled away from his mother. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. This wasn't the time to be crying like this. He had to get his sister back.

"Mom?" His voice didn't sound as bad as it had before, but it was still too thick with feeling. "If I get better, can Azula come home?" 

"Get better?" She tilted her head down to look at him. Her smile was sad. "Sweetheart, you don't need to get better. You're perfectly fine as you are." 

Zuko shook his head. He wasn't fine as he was. If he were, Azula would still be here. He changed questions. "If I firebend, can she come back?" 

"Zuko." She sighed his name again and pulled him back in. He turned his face so he was looking out to the pond, his cheek resting on the embarrassingly damp spot he'd caused on her robes from all his crying. "Whether you can bend or not shouldn't matter." 

Shouldn't matter, but it did. 

"Azula will come back soon." 

When was soon? 

He knew she didn't have the answers he wanted. She had just as much information as he did on the subject. In the things she hadn't said were the facts that Zuko had expected. 

If he trained harder, if he got smarter, if he could just _bend_ , then that would be enough. If Zuko could prove himself useful, she could come back. 

All that was needed for Azula to return was for him to be better. 

Zuko held on tight to his mother and swore to himself that he would do whatever it takes to get her back. He had a plan now, and that made him feel a little better. 

He would start training in the morning.

Zuko was more determined than he’d ever been in his entire life. 

During all of his school lessons, he was quiet and focused. He took notes and asked questions when appropriate. More often than not, his tutors seemed annoyed at his questions, as if it was proof that he hadn’t been paying attention. They must have told his father, because on those days he seemed more angry than usual. After awhile, he realized that asking questions wasn’t going to help him get Azula back any quicker, so he stopped asking them. If he had a question, he would find the answer himself. 

If any of his lessons required hands on work, like his etiquette lessons or the very limited combat training his father allowed, he worked at it and didn’t stop until he had it perfected. Zuko was a little clumsy, and he didn’t always understand how certain moves worked immediately. It was frustrating, especially when he remembered how Azula was always able to copy a move as soon as she saw it. 

The fact that he didn’t have that skill was one of the reasons she was gone. 

He would not rest until he moved as perfectly as Azula could. 

The spirits had seen to bless Zuko with _some_ natural talent, at least. Not the kind that his father approved of, unfortunately, but it was better than nothing. Unlike the rest of him, his fingers were dexterous and almost graceful. He excelled in his writing courses- calligraphy and otherwise. He was also fairly skilled with music. 

He didn't _like_ playing music, and he especially hated his tsungi horn lessons. However, he couldn't deny that he was good at it, and that was a rare thing for him. So he practiced and played like he enjoyed it. 

He had far more practice in writing than he did any of his other lessons. Two or three times a week, he would write letters to Azula. 

He wrote to her about his progress. About how he was getting stronger and smarter and better. About how she would be able to come home _soon_. 

He wrote down every spirit tale their mother told from memory. He wrote the proverbs their uncle occasionally told him over tea and games of pai sho that Zuko still didn't understand how to play. He wrote how father was constantly saying how great Azula was, how she was a prodigy and more amazing than he could have ever hoped for in an heir. 

Zuko wrote to her about how much he missed her. 

He wrote and he wrote and he wrote, but he never got a reply. 

That was okay. 

The reason she probably wasn't replying, Zuko thought, was because he hadn't done enough yet. It had been months since she'd left. Late autumn now. He was rapidly approaching eight and still he couldn't firebend. 

_Will I ever be good enough if I can't bend?_ He thought, nerves churning his stomach and making him feel sick. 

Zuko begged his father over and over again to let him take firebending lessons. Every time he asked, he was refused. Why waste a master's time teaching someone like him, who couldn't even match the fluctuation of a candle to his breath? It would be an embarrassment and a shame upon the entire royal family if it was discovered just how useless Zuko really was. 

No, he couldn't have any lessons. 

But still, he was expected to bend. 

As he was starting to discover with _all_ matters of his education, he was going to have to learn on his own. Luckily, Zuko was a master at sneaking around and making himself invisible. It wouldn't be too hard to watch someone else's firebending lessons and copy what he learned from there.

For the first few weeks, everything went fine. He’d decided, without sparing too much thought on it, that he would shadow his cousin. After all, Lu Ten was the only firebender in the palace who still _took_ lessons. And he took them outside in the courtyard, where spying on him would be easy enough. Zuko switched up his hiding places every few days, hiding in _this_ dark corner that day and climbing to the top of _that_ roof the next and then a different corner or maybe in a tree or behind a bush and so on and so on. At one point he was bold enough to pick a hiding place so close to the action that all Lu Ten or his master would have had to do was look up, and he would be caught. 

They never did. 

There was something both invigorating and frightening about doing something that reckless. He was torn between thinking it was worth it to actually watch so closely and feel the heat of the flames or if his rapid heartbeat and the way his limbs shook so nervously for the rest of the day was too steep a price for it. Either way, he opted not to do it again. If only so he didn’t accidentally ruin his other lessons with all his shaking afterwards. 

No, it wasn’t watching the practices that got him in trouble. It was what he did afterwards. 

Normally, Zuko went over all of his lessons in the privacy of his own room. The door would remain tightly closed until someone, usually a servant, would come and bring him his meals or very rarely take him to eat with his parents. Sometimes his mother would come, signaling her entrance with a soft knock before coming in. Those were the nights when she would sit with him and she would tell him stories until he fell asleep instead of letting him tire himself out with all his work. 

Most times, though, he was undisturbed. He could work on whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted, and there would be no scrutinizing, judgemental eyes on him. The only disappointment he would feel when he inevitably messed up and had to repeat something simple over and over again would be his own. 

There were a handful of times where Zuko’s training happened outside his room. He wasn’t allowed to bring practice weapons back to his room with him, even if they were just blunt wooden blades. So, when he wanted to practice the minimal weapons training his father allowed him, he had to do it in the palace’s training grounds. Technically, it was still a private area, and no one ever bothered him while he was in there. After his first few uninterrupted training sessions, he got almost as comfortable in the training grounds as he was in his own room. 

It was one of those evenings where he devoted all of his time to combat. His father didn’t agree that Zuko should know how to fight either hand to hand or with a blade, if he were any sort of _real_ Fire Nation prince then he should be able to rely on fire to protect him and the fact that he couldn’t was shameful. His uncle and grandfather had disagreed, though, and since grandfather was firelord there was no way father could keep Zuko from training with a weapon. Since that was the case, he needed to prove he could at least do this much correctly. 

Zuko practiced his handful of sword moves over and over again until his arms and shoulders ached. Then he did it a dozen more times, the same thing, over and over, until he didn’t think he could physically hold up the piece of wood in his hands. 

If anyone had asked, and if he was allowed to answer honestly, he would admit that he didn’t much like the sword he was being taught. But nobody asked him and more than that, nobody would want him to be honest about it. 

After awhile, he transitioned from his sword training and focused on practicing the firebending moves he’d seen Lu Ten do earlier in the courtyard. Zuko took a deep breath and tried to remember exactly how his cousin had been standing. He’d been watching from a bit more of a distance than usual, so what he’d seen wasn’t as clear as he would have liked. 

He widened his stance and took a deep breath, just like he’d seen Lu Ten do. Immediately, he could feel that there was something wrong with how he was standing, but he couldn’t tell what exactly was off about it. Zuko grit his teeth and shifted slightly. For now, that was all he could do. He would have to see the move again to fix it.

His hands were tight fists at his sides. He squared his shoulders and brought his arms up in a defensive position. He took another deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Fire comes from the breath. Everyone knew that.

Inhale. Exhale. 

He punched the empty air with one fist, closely followed by the other. The move was clumsy, but quick. 

Nothing happened. 

Zuko got back into position. His stance was still wrong. He swiveled slightly, sliding one foot further back. He didn’t know if that was right, but it felt a little less off. 

He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. 

Punch. One two. 

Still nothing. 

Back into position. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

One two. 

He wasn’t expecting this to work, anyway. It had never worked before. 

Back into position. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

One two. 

He knew he wouldn’t get this move memorized correctly until he had the stance down. He wouldn’t get the stance down until he saw Lu Ten do it again. Zuko decided to switch to one he actually knew how to do better. He’d seen Lu Ten do it a million times. 

Zuko got into position. He shifted his center of gravity and got low to the ground. He swept his leg out in a circle, his heel almost scraping the dirt. Then a somersault, and he was back up on his feet. A right kick, swept in an arc. Then a sharp jab from his right hand. 

He did it again. He tried to be faster this time. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab. 

Would this be harder to do once he added the fire? 

Assuming he ever got fire to add to it. 

He did it again. Faster.

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab. 

Someone to spar with would probably be helpful, too. Once Azula was back, he’d have to ask her to fight him. 

It might be fun. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

One Two. 

Suddenly, he missed Azula so much. It was nearly overwhelming. Was she doing okay, wherever she was? Why would no one tell him?

Circle. Somersault. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Did she miss him as much as he missed her? 

One Two. 

Kick. Jab. 

His thoughts were all over the place. He was forgetting exactly which one he was doing. But maybe that was okay. He could combine moves, right? That’s what fighting was about. Keeping the enemy on their toes. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab. 

One Two. 

The more he learned and the better he got, the sooner Azula could come back. Once he got fire, they could spar. If they were going to spar, he would need to know some moves. She would want to be surprised. 

Circle. Somersault. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

One Two. 

Kick. Jab. 

The combinations were clumsy. This wasn’t going to work. Not in the way he wanted. He should probably perfect the moves before he tried to change them. If he had a firebending teacher of his own he was sure they wouldn’t approve of this. Back to doing what he knew for now. He took a deep breath. Crouched.

Something felt off, but it wasn’t him. He knew it wasn’t him. 

Zuko ignored it. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab. 

Again. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Jab.

The thing that was wrong was still there. He still wasn’t sure what it was. Nothing should have felt different. 

Circle. Somersault. Kick. Ja-

Something caught his wrist. A large hand, with solid fingers that could easily wrap around his thin wrist. A familiar hand that he knew well. 

His heart was beating so fast it was practically buzzing in his chest. His skin had gone from overheated to clammy as soon as contact was made. Zuko, in every sense except physical, was frozen. 

He’d been caught practicing firebending. Something he wasn’t allowed to do. Because he had no fire. 

Zuko was standing in his shadow. He didn’t dare look up. What would be there if he did? Would there be disappointment in his eyes? Anger? 

His hand, stopped mid motion, had started to shake. What was going to happen now? 

“I know that move.” Lu Ten finally said. His voice was soft, and he let go of Zuko’s wrist. “Isn’t that a little advanced for you? Zuko, who taught that to you?”

Zuko lowered his shaking hand back down to his side. He shifted out of his training position and stood straight. He didn’t look up at his cousin, instead he stared at the floor.

His voice, when he finally managed to speak, was quiet and nearly cracked. “No one.”

“No one?” Lu Ten didn’t sound like he believed him. 

“I copied it.” The shame of admitting it sat heavy in his stomach like a rock. “No one taught me.”

“You know, you could get seriously hurt practicing that.” 

Zuko nodded. He had known the risks when he’d started his personal self training lessons. 

“Those moves need a lot of control of your fire to do properly. What if you burned yourself on accident?” 

Lu Ten sounded so _worried_ , the shame was joined by a nauseating sense of guilt. The inside of his mouth tasted bitter. “Sorry.”

His cousin was quiet above him. Zuko wondered if he’d even heard his apology, his voice had gotten even quieter, more breath than word. He opened his mouth to repeat himself, but a flash of thought made him snap it closed again. 

_Is Lu Ten mad at me?_

It came unprompted out of nowhere, sending a cold bolt of lightning down his back. He wanted the thought to go away, but he couldn’t make it disappear because what if it was true. He’d been caught doing things he wasn’t allowed to, and it was something he’d clearly copied from watching Lu Ten. He had every right to be mad about it.

“Zuko?” Lu Ten’s hand squeezed his shoulder. It wasn’t a harsh move, nothing like the grip his father held when he held his hand there. For a second he thought that maybe everything was fine. Maybe Lu Ten wasn’t mad at him or anything. 

Then he remembered he’d never seen Lu Ten angry before. Maybe his anger was different. 

“Zuko, you’re being really quiet. Is something wrong?” 

Lu Ten’s hand moved off Zuko’s shoulder, down to his arm. Slowly, gently, he made him turn around so they were facing each other. Lu Ten was kneeling on the ground, bringing him close to eye level with Zuko. 

Zuko was still trying not to look at him, but it was a lot harder now that Lu Ten was facing him and holding him in place. The grasp was gentle, the hands loose on his arms, but Zuko knew better than to squirm. 

“Are you okay?” Lu Ten’s hands were moving carefully up and down Zuko’s arms. He could feel his eyes searching across his body for something, but he couldn’t be sure what. “ _Did_ you burn yourself?” 

The question startled Zuko so much he nearly laughed. If he wasn’t holding himself so rigidly in fear he definitely would have. 

You need fire to burn. 

“Zuko?” Lu Ten’s hand moved from his arm, and Zuko felt the absence with relief but stayed perfectly still. Lu Ten had a finger under Zuko’s chin and tilted his face up so he had no choice but to look at him. Lu Ten’s eyes, nearly gold and shining, usually brimming bright with joy, almost looked dull with what Zuko recognized as worry. He saw it on his mother’s face often enough to identify it easily. “Should I get your mom?” 

“No!” 

His shout startled both of them. Lu Ten’s hands fell away from Zuko in an instant, and Zuko took a step back. He hadn’t _meant_ to shout at him, but Lu Ten saying he was going to get Mom had sent Zuko into a blind panic and he just _had_. He didn’t want anyone to know about his firebending training, especially his mom. 

If she found out how hard he was trying to create fire and still couldn’t do it, she’d be disappointed. 

She always said the fact that he couldn’t bend was okay. He had other things he could do. Other things he was good at. 

That wasn’t really true, though. There wasn’t much he was good at and the fact that he couldn’t bend was a slight on the family. He had to bend. He had to prove he could do it. 

Zuko didn’t want to know what would happen if he couldn’t. 

Lu Ten nodded, the concerned look still clear in his eyes. “Okay. I won’t get your mom, then. But can you tell me what’s wrong, Zuko? And maybe tell me why you were practicing an advanced move all by yourself?”

He didn’t _sound_ mad, he sounded just the same as always. There was just the slightest edge to Lu Ten’s voice that was closer to what he was used to hearing from his mom than what he was used to from his father. If Lu Ten was mad, his face betrayed nothing, either. He had that soft, patient smile that he always had whenever he was waiting for Zuko to talk. 

Zuko relaxed a little, but not all the way. He still had to confirm. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Lu Ten’s concern melted into confusion. “What? No, why would I be mad at you?”

Zuko swallowed and shifted his stance, looking back down at the ground again. He was pretty sure that Lu Ten wasn’t mad at him, which was the only reason he was even able to move now. He still didn’t want to look at his cousin, just in case explaining why he _should_ be mad was enough to convince him to actually _be_ mad. His hands were fists at his sides, his short nails pressing hard into his palms. 

“Father said I’m not allowed to learn how to firebend until I can create my own fire.” Zuko explained. It was so hard to get the words out, they were so thick and heavy on his tongue. He really didn’t want to see Lu Ten’s face. “But I copied moves I saw you do because I wanted to learn how to do it.” 

He’d copied Lu Ten’s movements and he _still_ couldn’t bend at all. What was wrong with him? 

Lu Ten was quiet again, and Zuko began to stiffen once more. He was right, Lu Ten was going to be mad at him now that he understood what he’d done. Zuko had gone directly against his father’s orders against learning how to firebend in an attempt to get his flames to light faster. The worst part was, he didn’t even have anything to show for disobeying like that. 

Once his father found out the stupid thing Zuko did, Azula might never come back. How could father allow his amazing prodigy firebender daughter to come back just to be ruined by his dishonest and useless nonbender son? It wouldn’t make sense. 

At the thought of never seeing his sister again, Zuko felt sick. 

“I don’t understand why you think I’d be mad at you about that.” Lu Ten said suddenly, shocking Zuko out of his own head. 

He stared at his cousin, searching his face for something, anything, that was different. Anything that was angry at him. Something cold and sharp behind the eyes. A lip upturned in a sneer. Lines in his forehead. Anything at all. 

Lu Ten was frowning, but it still looked closer to his mom’s face than his father’s. Zuko wasn’t sure what to make of that. He stayed stiff. 

“Zuko,” He sighed, one of his hands went up to his hair, as if to brush a strand back into his topknot. There was nothing to fix, though, his hair was perfect, “I’m not mad at you. I’ve _never_ been mad at you. I was just worried you might get hurt. Azula burned down a whole _room_ when she started bending, and she wasn’t even doing anything at the time! _You_ were practicing an advanced kata that gives even skilled firebenders trouble with controlling their flames. It’s almost like you’re _asking_ the spirits to hurt you!” 

Zuko flinched. Lu Ten stopped talking again. He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself down. It seemed to work, because Lu Ten’s shoulders, which had gone as stiff as Zuko himself felt, had lowered and his face nearly softened. He was still frowning, though.

Zuko copied the breath and tried to will himself to relax. It didn’t work quite as well. 

“If you’re going to try to firebend,” Lu Ten said slowly, “you should have somebody watch over you. Just in case, so you don’t get hurt. And you should also probably start with the basics.”

Zuko nodded. That all made sense to him. 

“I think,” he continued, “that maybe I should teach you for now.” 

Zuko couldn’t help the giant grin that spread across his face. “You will?” 

“Of course.” And for the first time since he’d arrived in the training room, Lu Ten smiled. It was the bright, mischievous smile Zuko loved the most. “What else are cousins for?” 

Before he knew what he was doing, Zuko threw himself at his cousin. Lu Ten was still kneeling and almost rocked backwards at the sudden weight of a seven year old thrown on him. Zuko’s arms were looped around Lu Ten’s neck, and he squeezed him tight, burying his face against his throat. He felt the heat in his eyes and the lump in his throat right before a few tears slipped past his guard. 

“Thanks, Lu Ten.” He choked out. 

Lu Ten laughed lightly, patting Zuko’s back with one hand. “That’s _Sifu_ to you, now.” 

Having a teacher would mean more to him than Lu Ten would ever know. 

Lu Ten made Zuko promise that he wouldn’t try to firebend on his own anymore. Reluctantly, he’d agreed. The situation was a bit frustrating though, since Lu Ten was still as busy as ever with his duties as a prince with the promise of being fire lord not too far off in his future. He barely had time to teach Zuko anything.

And when he _did_ have time, it wasn’t to teach Zuko anything he wanted to learn. 

“Fire comes from the breath.”

“I know, Sifu Ten.” 

“Since it comes from the breath,” Lu Ten continued, ignoring the interruption, “it’s best to start training with learning about proper breath control. The best way to do _that_ , of course, is meditation.”

Lu Ten was already in Lotus position on the training room floor. He looked up at Zuko, waiting for him to join. Zuko crossed his arms over his chest and remained standing.

“I already know how to sit still and control my breath.”

He saw the corner of Lu Ten’s mouth tick upwards, he was trying to be serious. Being serious wasn’t one of Lu Ten’s strengths. At least, not with Zuko. “That’s not what meditation’s about.”

“It’s not?” Zuko’s arms dropped to his sides. From what he knew about meditating, you were supposed to sit with your eyes closed in the sun and breathe. That was all you were supposed to do. He’d seen it done a hundred times and even tried it once, but he didn’t understand the point and couldn’t see how it would help him now, so he’d stopped. “What’s it about, then?” 

“It’s about centering yourself.” He answered automatically. It seemed like he was going to leave it at that, but at the confused look on Zuko’s face he decided to expand on it. “You’re supposed to stop thinking, let go of all your emotions, and just feel the sun.”

“Feel the sun?” Zuko repeated, looking around the room. How were they supposed to feel the sun if they were inside? “How?”

“All you have to do is relax.” Lu Ten replied, misunderstanding Zuko’s question completely. “Agni’s rays will flow through your body and stoke the fire in your belly. When you feel the sun, it should start from the inside out.” 

That made even less sense. His own confusion was starting to make him frustrated. He didn’t want to be mad at Lu Ten, but he didn’t understand what he was saying and he didn’t think he ever would. 

“So? Are you going to try meditating with me?” 

Zuko huffed, but did as he was told. He sat in position beside Lu Ten, trying his best to copy how he folded his legs and cupped his hands. Lu Ten watched his shifting from the corner of his eye, the half smile still on his face. 

“I know this isn’t the flashy bending you wanted to do,” Lu Ten mumbled to him quietly, “but I promise this is important. Just bear with it, okay?” 

“I don’t care about being flashy.” Zuko nearly snapped as he tried to get comfortable. “I just need to know how to bend.”

“Good.” Lu Ten nodded. “Then consider this the first step.” 

The first step took a long, long time for Zuko to get right. Even when Lu Ten told him he was doing a good job, he wasn't sure he believed him. He would get in position and close his eyes and breathe as evenly as he could, in and out just like Lu Ten showed him. That much he knew he was doing right. 

It was the other parts he didn't get. Stop thinking and letting go of his emotions. Feeling the sun. 

How was he supposed to let go when all he had was his worry? How was he supposed to stop thinking when it was the thought of Azula that was the only thing keeping him going? 

If he let go of this -if he let go of _her_ \- what would he have left? 

He wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

They thankfully didn't spend their _entire_ time meditating. Lu Ten understood his cousin well enough that if Zuko had to sit through not making any progress, he would need an outlet for his frustration. He taught him a few of the basic katas, keeping close watch on the off chance Zuko's flames chose that moment to light. 

Under Lu Ten's eye and strong, gently guiding hand, Zuko was able to perform his katas to near perfection. He had the movements down, but there was no heat behind them. Sometimes Lu Ten would praise him for just being able to do the moves and controlling his breathing. That only infuriated Zuko more, and after every kind word from his cousin he pushed himself even harder.

His birthday was coming closer and closer with each passing day, Zuko could feel the cold approach of the winter along with the dread in his stomach. Lu Ten was already sitting in position when Zuko arrived for training. As Zuko was taking his seat next to Lu Ten, inching so close that their legs were nearly touching, Lu Ten turned to him and asked if there was anything he wanted for his birthday. 

_Azula_. His brain supplied immediately. 

“I want to firebend.” He said, the dread tasting like bile in his throat. 

Lu Ten’s ever present smile slipped.”Zuko, I know that’s something you really want to do, and it’s great that you’re so determined. I know how much effort you put in and I’m really proud of you. But-” 

Lu Ten hesitated, and Zuko bristled beside him. Whatever he was going to say next, Zuko knew he wouldn’t like it. 

“I think you should try focusing your efforts somewhere else.” 

It was a slap in the face. Zuko felt the hurt in every inch of his body, and the heat building up in his eyes. 

“Oh. Oh no, don’t cry!” Lu Ten broke from his position in a panic, opening his arms wide for Zuko and motioning for him to come. Zuko didn’t move any closer, he just shook his head. Lu Ten kept his arms open just in case. “I’m not saying that I don’t think you can bend. But if you couldn’t, that would be okay, too! There’s nothing wrong with not being a bender. Not that I’m saying you’re _not_ a bender for sure, you might just be a late bloomer!”

Lu Ten interrupted his own floundering speech with a deep sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face. “What I’m trying to say, Zuko, is that whether you’re a bender or not, it shouldn’t matter. I love that you want to learn so badly, but I think you’re working too hard. You’re so little, you shouldn’t be burning yourself out over something you may or may not be able to do.”

Everything Lu Ten said was upsetting. Zuko wanted to complain or yell or throw something. He restrained himself from doing any of those (partially because everything he’d be able to throw was all the way across the room) and just frowned angrily back at his cousin. His eyes were still watering, and he tried to blink the tears away before they fell. 

Lu Ten had already seen how upset Zuko was, and he didn’t seem like he liked what he saw. He’d left his arms open for his cousin in case Zuko wanted a hug, but it was clear he wasn’t going to come on his own. Lu Ten closed the distance between them and laid his hands on Zuko’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. 

Zuko didn’t like the touch. The hands on his shoulders felt nothing like his father’s did, but he couldn’t help but feel reminded. He stayed perfectly still and stared down at his own hands, curled into tight fists in his lap. 

“Zuko, listen, I think I know why firebending is so important to you now.” 

Lu Ten’s voice was soft, and his hands rubbed the thin slope of his shoulders in a way that was almost comforting. Still, Zuko braced himself for whatever he was about to say next.

He still didn’t see it coming.

“It’s because of Azula, isn’t it?” 

His head snapped up. His breath was trapped in his lungs. Was he that obvious?

He must have been, because when his tear blurred eyes met Lu Ten’s, all he saw there was pity. Zuko shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course he was going to pity him. He wasn’t trying to learn for the right reasons, and now Lu Ten was probably never going to teach him again. Maybe he would stop talking to him altogether. It would make sense. He was probably disappointed. 

He hung his head in shame. Lu Ten was right, he should stop. He didn’t deserve to firebend. Not for such a selfish reason. 

But if he didn’t learn how to firebend, he wasn’t sure how else he was going to get Azula back. Firebending was the only thing he had left. 

“I thought as much.” Lu Ten’s grip on his shoulders tightened ever so slightly. “I know it must be hard, having a sister who can do something you can’t and being compared to her. That can’t be easy on you. But you don’t _have_ to be good at the same things as her! You’re your own person, and you’re good at so many other things! There’s no reason for you to try so hard to be like her when you should just focus on being like you. Does that make sense?” 

Zuko shook his head. No, most of what he’d said made no sense at all. He already knew he was his own person, the person he was just wasn’t good enough to have a sister right now. He had to try as hard as he could or he might _never_ be good enough to have her back. 

Lu Ten squeezed his shoulders again. “I understand why you’re jealous-”

“I’m not jealous.” Zuko interrupted, lifting his head. 

Lu Ten’s expression looked just as confused as Zuko felt. “If it’s not jealousy, then what is it, Zuko? Why are you working yourself so hard?”

“I…” Zuko swallowed thickly, the words caught in his throat. He hadn’t actually admitted it before. “I just want Azula back.” 

“Zuko.” Lu Ten said his name in the same way his mom did sometimes. Softly, sadly. Like all he wanted to do was hug him. 

He wasn’t surprised when Lu Ten did just that, pressing Zuko’s cheek to his chest and playing with his hair. Zuko didn’t hug back, but he did sink into his arms just a little. 

“I miss her a lot.” 

His voice was so quiet, he wasn’t sure if Lu Ten even heard him. It would be fine if he didn’t. It was just something he needed to say out loud. 

“I know you do.” Lu Ten mumbled back. “I miss her, too.” 

Zuko almost said something, but his breath hitched before he could speak and suddenly all words escaped him. Lu Ten hugged him closer, laying his chin on the top of Zuko’s head. When he spoke, Zuko could feel the vibrations in his throat, and it was almost comforting.

“My mother died when I was about your age.” Lu Ten said. “I never told her or my father this, but I’d always wanted a little sibling. Of course, there was nothing to be done about that after she passed. But then, a few years later, you and Azula were born. You filled that hole in my life I didn’t even know I had.”

Part of him had always known how Lu Ten felt. He was so close to him and Azula in a way that most cousins, especially with their age difference, weren’t. Knowing a feeling and actually hearing it out loud were two different things entirely, though, and having Lu Ten say it made the emptiness in Zuko’s chest ache. 

As far as Zuko was concerned, Lu Ten was his big brother. He couldn’t say it right then, but he hoped Lu Ten knew that. He was pretty sure he did. 

“What I’m trying to say, Zuko, is that I understand how you feel right now.” He continued. “I want Azula back, too. But you have to understand that there’s nothing you can do to make that happen.” 

Nothing?

 _Nothing_ he could do?

anything if he couldn't even bring his little sister home again?

For the first time in his life, Zuko felt himself break.

He knew that Lu Ten was saying something, probably trying to comfort him or get him to stop crying, but he didn’t want to listen. Everything Lu Ten had said _hurt_ somehow and he didn’t think he could handle any more of it. 

Lu Ten scooped him up easily and carried him out of the privacy of the training room and out into the hallway. Zuko tried his best to make himself stop crying or at least be quiet about it. He was almost eight, he was too old to be acting like a baby. He wasn’t able to stop the tears, but he bit into his fist to suppress any noise he might have made. 

Zuko couldn’t tell where they were going, all his energy focused on not being too obvious about the crying he couldn’t control. Before he knew what was happening, Lu Ten brought him to a room and sat him down on a cushion on the floor. There was a low table in front of him, and then there was a steaming cup of tea placed gently on it. 

“You should drink.” His uncle’s voice said from above him. A warm hand found the top of Zuko’s head and stroked his hair. It wasn’t unpleasant. “It’ll make you feel better.” 

Zuko nodded and did what his uncle said. He took his fist out of his mouth and held the teacup in both of his hands. They shook slightly, but he was able to lift it and drink without spilling. 

The taste was familiar. A little spicy and a little sweet, but not enough to mask the bitter. 

Green tea. Ginger. Honey. 

The last cup of tea he’d shared with his sister. 

He drank the whole cup and cried even harder. When his uncle offered him another, he didn’t refuse. Zuko drank every cup offered to him until there was no more tea and no more tears left for him to cry. 

He was sitting between his uncle and Lu Ten, both of whom were speaking in hushed tones. He couldn’t tell if they were talking to him or to each other. Either way, he didn’t have the energy to listen. Zuko cradled the empty tea cup to his chest and breathed the calming meditation breath like Lu Ten taught him. 

There was a warmth in his belly that could have been from the tea or the fire that Agni was gently coaxing to life inside of him. It felt nice, almost comforting. Zuko leaned heavily into his uncle’s side and tried not to fall asleep. Tea always made him sleepy, and all the crying he’d done left him wiped out. 

Across the room, there was a little candle flame that fluctuated softly with every inhale and exhale. He barely noticed it, but he knew his uncle had seen it when he pointed the unnaturally moving flame to Lu Ten. Lu Ten had lit up and grinned down at him. His smile was as bright as the sun, and Zuko couldn’t help the weak smile that he gave in return. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

Zuko watched the even rise and fall of the little flame as he tried to blink the tiredness out of his body. He wasn’t able to do it, though, and it wasn’t long before he’d started drifting off. Before he lost total control over the candle, he felt someone else’s energy reach out and push his gently away. The fire flickered and then went out, but Zuko still felt the warmth from it. 

Without thinking about it, Zuko held up his empty cup and sniffed it. The inside still smelled like tea. It reminded him of Azula, and that only hurt a little bit. 

His uncle was right. The tea did make him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this!! I ended it on kinda a happy note because you deserve it. 
> 
> by the way sorry if the bending move sounds really dumb I do not know how to write like, action movements very well. Hopefully that'll get better as the story progresses with all the actiony scenes. 
> 
> Thank you again! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooooooo welcome to chapter two!!! It's really long I hope you don't mind!!
> 
> This chapter is basically Zuko age 8-10. You already know what happens with Zuko when he's 10... this is not going to be a fun chapter, and I'm sorry. 
> 
> Someday these will be fun. Not right now, though. 
> 
> Other things to know about this chapter: there's a big part of this that's Zuko's letter writing adventure to his cousin in Ba Sing Se. 
> 
> There's of course character death in this chapter (like I said, Zuko when he's 10. The Bad Times) and some stuff with him trying to deal with it more towards the end of the chapter.

Zuko’s inner flame was weak. It took him a long time to actually bring out any fire of his own. The flames he _did_ manage to create were small and not very hot, holding as much heat as the average candle. That was a bit disappointing, but Zuko wasn’t discouraged. At least he had flames to work with now. 

Every time he practiced his katas with his fire, Lu Ten praised him and told him more than he deserved. Not that Zuko was complaining about it. He actually really liked hearing Lu Ten tell him how proud he was of him. He didn’t think his bending was all that good yet, but Lu Ten said that for a beginner, especially one who started bending as late as him, his progress was amazing. 

“You know,” Lu Ten said conversationally after leading Zuko through his katas, “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I started bending late myself.”

“Really, Sifu Ten?” Zuko asked, wiping sweat off his forehead. The katas were a lot more work now that he had to regulate flames along with his movements. He didn’t mind the workout, though. “How old were you?”

“Nearly as old as you.” Lu Ten replied, stretching his arms over his head. Zuko copied the motion. “I was seven and a half. Father was certain I would be able to bend, and all of my beginner’s lessons were taught directly by him. Even with that expert training, once I got my flame I wasn’t anywhere near as controlled as you are with it. I just wanted to let you know how impressed I am by you.”

Zuko ducked his head, feeling the heat rising in his face. “I had a really good teacher.”

Lu Ten laughed and ruffled his hair. “Well, I bet your teacher’s not half as good as my student.”

He smiled, and it was enough of a boost to his confidence that Zuko finally felt ready to show his parents what he’d learned. 

His father sat several feet from where Zuko stood. His spine was straight and his eyes held that same cold, stony look they always seemed to carry. Even seated, he was the picture of royalty. Beside his father was his mother, looking small in comparison but just as regal.

“You said you had something to show us.” His father said sternly. “You better not be wasting my time.” 

Zuko nodded once and bowed to the both of them. First to his mother, and then lower to his father. When he was given permission to stand again, he got into position for a beginner’s kata. With the practiced ease of doing something he’d done at least a dozen times before, the movements were sure and strong. The exact kind of thing his father expected from his children. 

The flames that puffed from his fist were still weaker than he wanted, but the important thing was that the flames were _there_. 

He glanced towards his parents, emotions stuck somewhere between prideful and scared. He could bend now! But was it good enough? This, along with everything else he’d been working so hard to do, would it be enough? 

His mom’s smile was thin, but encouraging. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. His father’s face was just as stern and blank as before. 

Zuko swallowed, feeling his body begin to stiffen up in the final pose of his kata. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and made himself relax. 

This had to be enough. 

There wasn’t any more he could do.

He took another deep breath. He did another kata. Then another. And another. 

Zuko performed as many katas as he was capable of. His fire was small and weak, it couldn’t burn anyone even if he wanted it to. Still, his technique was perfect, and if he kept at it long enough he was sure his control would get there, too. His father had to see the potential there. He had to understand how hard he was _trying_. 

His father had to know he wasn’t useless. 

Zuko finished performing every single kata he’d practiced with Lu Ten, trying to coax his fire to be bigger or burn brighter as he did. The effort was exhausting and left him nearly swaying on his feet at the end. The only thing that kept him from collapsing was knowing how disappointed his father would be if he couldn’t even get through a set of beginner’s katas. 

He stood in front of his parents, head down and back straight, his hands clasped behind his back. He was trying his best to keep his breathing even so he didn’t show how tired he actually was. His heart was thumping so hard in his chest it actually hurt. 

“So,” his father finally spoke, his voice booming in the tense silence, “you finally decided to bend.”

He didn’t say it like a question, but Zuko knew from experience that he was expected to answer. He opened his mouth and for a moment he couldn’t find the words he knew his father wanted him to say. 

“I, um.” Zuko paused, swallowed, and willed his voice not to shake. “Yes, Father, sir.” 

“Good.” 

Zuko’s head snapped up, unable to hide the smile on his face. He said he did good! If he was praising him, then it must be enough, right? 

It had to be. He’d done good. That was more than he’d ever expected to hear. 

There was a bright and fuzzy feeling in his chest that Zuko wasn’t sure he’d felt there before. At least, not from anything his father had said to him. 

“I was beginning to think you really _were_ the useless nonbender I’d always feared you were.” 

The sweet, warm feeling crumbled slightly. Zuko refused to completely let go of it. 

“Given the sorry state of your flame, though, it almost would have almost been better if you were a nonbender.” His father continued. The feeling slipped away just a little more, but Zuko did everything he could to hold onto it. “Your fire is pathetic. It’s not even the shadow of your sister’s abilities. Maybe you need to see what a _real_ heir to the throne is capable of.”

Zuko’s breathing faltered for a moment. “Father?” 

Then his father did something Zuko had rarely seen before, the last time so long ago he couldn’t even remember it. 

He smiled. 

“Princess Azula will be returning.” 

Spring came early to the Fire Nation. The day Azula came back, Agni’s rays were shining down warmer and brighter than ever. In the palace gardens, the flowers were starting to bloom. Zuko, a little embarrassed to admit it, felt like a flower himself that afternoon by the turtle duck pond. He was open and bright and happy, just like the little bouquet he spent hours working on for his sister. 

He sat at the edge of the pond, watching the ducks swim across the water as he rearranged and fussed with the flowers he’d picked again. At his side, his mother tossed a handful of crushed bread out to the water to feed the turtle ducks. There was a soft smile on her face, the type of smile that _did_ reach her eyes. Looking at it made Zuko feel warm and peaceful inside. 

“Do you think Azula missed me?” Zuko asked. 

He was just as surprised by his own question as his mother looked. The smile he’d accidentally made slip off her face soon returned without hesitation. She ruffled his hair, and he leaned into the touch. 

“You and your father have been writing her so constantly, I doubt she had time to miss anyone.” Her soft voice lovingly teased. Zuko pressed into her side and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush his flowers. She kissed the top of his head, and her voice lost the teasing edge. “I’m sure she did, sweetheart. And she’ll be just as happy to see you again.” 

He knew in his heart that Azula missed him fiercely just like he’d always felt he was a firebender. Still, it was comforting to hear. It made him feel better. 

He heard before he saw his sister come home. There was an entire procession of people in her wake, the crowd talking over one another and almost falling over each other. The sounds were easy to track as they wandered through the halls, making their way towards the gardens where Zuko waited with his mother. 

It wasn’t long before Zuko sprang to his feet, too excited to sit still and wait for Azula to find him herself. He ran away from his mother, out of the gardens and towards the sound. Zuko was fast, and really good at finding things when he wanted to. Finding Azula took no time at all. 

She was in the hall, close to the entrance of the gardens. Her back was to him, her attention focused on the people crowded in front of her. 

“Azula!” Zuko’s heart felt like it would burst in his chest as he ran to her. He was happier than he’d ever felt in his whole life. His face almost hurt from how big his smile was. “Azula, I missed yo-” 

The wind was knocked out of him so quickly he couldn’t process what happened. He stumbled backwards, and the flowers slipped from his fingers as he lost his footing and fell to the ground. There was the smell of smoke, and there was pain on his chest that hadn’t been there before. Something that felt like it would bruise badly. The flowers he’d brought for his sister had fallen by his feet and were now nothing more than a smoldering line of ash. 

He looked up, dazed, and the sight that greeted him left him frozen to the ground.

Azula was standing over him, fire blazing on her fingertips. She was smiling down at him, but the smile was different. Zuko felt his heart freeze and sink like a stone into his stomach. 

“Hi, Zuzu.” There was no warmth in her voice when she called him that. The little flames flared, dancing on the reflection of her teeth. “I’m home.” 

Azula was back, but she wasn’t the same anymore. 

The Azula he’d fought so hard for was never coming back. 

His little sister was gone. 

It was hard, dealing with the new Azula. Sometimes, when Zuko looked at her, he could pretend she was the same as before. If he glanced at her small, proud frame out of the corner of his eye or listened to the way she laughed when she chased him, it was like the girl he knew was there still. 

Then he would look directly into her eyes, and there would be something cold that danced behind them that wasn't there before. Or she would catch him at the end of a chase, and she would "accidentally" burn him for losing. The burns were more surprising than painful. It would just be a fingertip pressed into his skin, then some heat, and then it went away. It wasn't even enough to scar. After the first few times, he didn't even make noise. 

It was hard to grapple with the fact that Azula was still Azula, but she also _wasn't_. 

Ever before Azula started firebending, it was clear to everyone that she was the preferred child in the family. At first, Zuko agreed. His sister was amazing! She was sweet and fun and smart and _so_ talented! If anyone had asked him, he would sing his little sister's praises until the spirits took him. 

He knew Azula was better than him, and that was fine. Even though she knew it, too, Azula had never treated him differently. She'd never thought of him as less. 

After she came back, though, she did. 

The new Azula called him Dum-Dum in that fake affectionate tone she had and liked to play games she knew he was no good at. She liked making him embarrass himself in front of her friends any chance she got. Sometimes she did that just by riling him up with insults, other times by forcing him to spar two against one with her nonbender friends. 

"If you're any kind of firebender, this shouldn't be hard." Azula said time and time again, standing over him as he lay in the turtle duck pond. Zuko would snap something stupid back in reply as he waited for the feeling to return to his limbs. 

If he were being honest, he kind of liked Azula's friends. Ty Lee was really nice, and even though Mai always frowned she wasn't unhappy and spoke her mind. She was also willing to talk to him when he'd shown interest in her throwing knives after their first forced spar. 

"Those are really cool!" He'd said excitedly as Mai unlinked his sleeve from a tree. "I didn't know you could even _throw_ knives!" 

"Anyone can throw a knife." Azula said, rolling her eyes. "It's not hard to throw things, Dum-Dum. _Mai_ just does it with _skill_." 

Zuko nodded, he could tell it must have taken a lot of practice to throw them just right. She must have worked really hard. 

"It's impressive." He told Mai matter of factly. "I only know how to sword fight a little." 

"And a baby amount of firebending." Azula added. 

Mai looked down at her knife and slipped into her sleeve. It was extra wide to easily conceal weapons. "Do you want me to show you how?" 

Usually the sparring wasn't too bad. It was still humiliating to never win against them, even when he tried to use his fire to defend himself. There were just some things you couldn't and _shouldn't_ fight if you ever wanted to win. 

Girls, he'd realized quickly, were one of those. 

Most of the time, he tried to stay as far away from Azula as possible. It wasn't too hard, Zuko had a tendency to cling to their mom or Lu Ten. Azula stuck close to their father, something she never would have done before she left. But now she walked in step with him at his right, and smiled up at him and called him "dad".

He'd never let them do that before. 

He'd always insisted on being called "father". Even now, he still insisted Zuko call him that. 

Zuko tried not to think about that too much. 

Not long before his ninth birthday, Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten prepared to leave for the far off Earth Kingdom city of Ba Sing Se. Lu Ten had shown him where it was on a map, and even on that small scale it felt like a long ways away. Uncle left first, looking as strong and immovable as the walls encircling the city he planned to fell. He was every inch the decorated war general Zuko had always known he was, but never really thought about before. 

A few days after, Lu Ten followed his father into the war. Zuko hugged Lu Ten tight and refused to let go. Lu Ten couldn’t indulge him forever, though, eventually he had to push Zuko away. 

He focused on the warmth and the weight of Lu Ten’s hand on the top of his head. It lingered there, and when their eyes met Zuko wondered if Lu Ten wanted to stay with him just as much as Zuko wanted him to. His eyes looked sad, but he had a smile on his face that Zuko felt was just for him. 

Lu Ten said goodbye. He said he would write as often as he could. He said he would miss him. He promised he would come back soon. 

Zuko wanted to chase after his cousin. He wanted to follow him out of the palace and onto the boat that was taking him so far away. 

Instead, his feet stayed planted firmly where he stood. Zuko watched his cousin leave with eyes he was trying desperately to keep dry. He was getting too old to cry so much. 

Zuko sniffled and waved goodbye to his cousin. He told him he'd miss him and that he'd write him, too. He told Lu Ten he loved him. 

He didn't know if he heard.

For over a year, all Zuko had of his cousin were letters. Scrolls delivered to him, tied with red string and sealed with a bit of golden wax. They came sporadically, sometimes there were few weeks between letters, other times months. Every time he untied the string and cracked the seal, his heart leaped in his chest, and he spent hours poring over the words his cousin so carefully crafted for him. 

_My Dearest Cousin Zuko,_

_It’s warm in the Earth Kingdom, but it’s a different warmth than home. It’s the humidity, Father says. The air in the Fire Nation is more humid, since we’re surrounded by water. From what I’ve noticed of the Earth Kingdom so far is that there is hardly any water at all here to speak of. Half the land is desert. The air is so dry. I can feel the sun’s heat pulsing down on me so much clearer here than I ever have at home. It’s odd to think about. I haven’t had the opportunity to practice my bending as freely as I wish here, but I know I will soon and I look forward to it. I’ll be sure to write you about the experience in my next letter._

Paragraphs and paragraphs of Lu Ten’s steady hand writing about the weather, the speeches General Iroh gave to the troops as they marched, the jaunty music of the Earth Kingdom. Sprinkled throughout and easy for Zuko to read in his cousin’s bright and teasing voice, were questions about how he was doing. How was his firebending progressing? Was he getting along with Azula? Anything interesting happen while he’d been away?

_Dear Cousin Lu Ten,_

_We went to Ember Island last month. I spent a lot of it being chased along the beach by Azula. It wasn’t as fun as you doing it. None of Ember Island is as fun without you. Who else will complain about Love Amongst the Dragons with me? I hope you’re back by next year, and if you’re not I hope we don’t go. I miss you a lot._

He didn’t mention how when he’d get chased by Azula, she would push him into the sand and not let him back up until his own yelling made him choke on it. He also didn’t mention how he stopped going to his mother for comfort about it because the way she looked at Azula sometimes reminded him of the way his father looked at _him_. 

He knew mom would never do what father did, not once did she raise her voice or her hand. But sometimes her silence and her looks were enough to send him on edge for Azula. 

There were other ways to hurt. 

_I miss you a lot, too, Zuko, even more than I miss fireflakes. Did you know they don’t have those here? It shouldn’t have come as that much of a shock, I suppose, but even the Fire Nation occupied villages don’t have any here. Maybe they do during festival season. Hopefully I’m not here long enough to figure that out. As much as I am honored to fight for my home and bring glory to the nation with all I have, it doesn’t stop it from being hard to be away for so long._

In a way, it was nice to know that Lu Ten ached for home in the same way that he ached to have him here. When he had the opportunity, Zuko snuck out of the palace and purchased a bag of fireflakes from a street vendor. He ate them in Lu Ten’s honor, and he almost cried. 

Zuko received so many letters from his cousin, but out of the dozens there were only a few that stood out to him as the most important. The first arrived in early autumn, delivered to his door by a servant while Zuko was recovering in his room from a rigorous training session. He hadn’t been having a very good day, but his mood instantly brightened the moment he laid eyes on the letter. He wiped his sweaty hands quickly on his pants and accepted the letter, then took a seat on his bed as he broke the seal and began to read. 

It was always nice to hear from him, but it was the last few paragraphs that cemented this particular correspondence as one of the most important he’d received. 

_There is something important I have to tell you, but I’m struggling with how to write it. This would be so much easier if I could just say it to you instead of having to write the words out. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing to admit at all, but I did promise that I would tell you first when this happened._

_Zuko, I’ve met someone special. She’s a fellow soldier in my battalion. At first I didn’t get along with her too well, she’s a bit abrasive and stubborn. She also didn’t seem to care at all that I’m a prince, which at first I didn’t like but I appreciate now. As I’ve gotten to spend more time with her over the past months away from home, I’ve also gotten to know her better._

_She isn’t the best firebender in the world, but she is creative and quick, able to turn every situation to her favor. Her tongue is just as quick as her hands, I have yet to witness an argument that she couldn’t win. That’s including against me, unfortunately. Her eyes are a dark amber that shine with a tenacity and determination that reminds me a little bit of you._

_Now that I think about it, one of the reasons she may not have liked me very much at first was because I said she reminded me of my nine-year-old cousin. She probably didn’t understand it as the compliment it was._

_This girl is amazing, Zuko, in every sense of the word. If there was a point to me leaving home and fighting this war, it was to meet her. She has the spark of a future Fire Lady. Every moment I spend with her is better than the last. After we take Ba Sing Se, I hope to bring her home with me. I never want to be without her again. I can’t wait for you two to meet, I have a feeling you’ll get along splendidly._

_She is my soulmate, her name is Winai._

After that, almost every letter from Lu Ten included scraps of information about his wonderful soulmate, Winai. Zuko was happy for his cousin and relished all the sweet words written about this girl. With how much he wrote, Zuko could almost paint her portrait if he’d felt like it. 

Even for a girl, she was short. Lu Ten wasn’t very tall himself, but she stood to his shoulder. Her hair was long and dark as the moonless night. She had a mole just off center of the bridge of her nose that Lu Ten loved to poke and tease her about. Her smile was one of the brightest things he’d ever seen and it warmed him like Agni’s rays after an hour of meditation. 

She was quick to argue but also quick to joke. Every emotion she felt blazed through her like the heat of a summer sun. She loved to fight and she loved to tell stories around the campfire at night. Lu Ten was sure she probably knew a tale or two that even Zuko’d never heard. In the darkness of his cousin’s homesickness, she was a comforting light. Zuko was glad that he had her. 

He wished he had someone like that in his life, too. 

Zuko had his mother, and he was grateful for that. She still hugged and kissed him and held him like he was small. She told him she loved him every single day. He appreciated that and he loved her more than anything else in the world, but those were the only things she did. Sweet, kind, motherly things. 

Sometimes Zuko didn’t want to sit at the turtle duck pond and take in the beauty of nature or think about how cute the animals were. Sometimes he wanted to run around and climb things or spar with someone. Sparring with his firebending instructors was hard, though. They never pulled their punches and Zuko’s fire was still so weak in comparison. It wasn’t even a fight. As for hand to hand, there was only Mai and Ty Lee. He couldn’t deny that he liked sparring with them, and he learned from watching the way they fought, but the girls only fought him when Azula told them to. They didn’t do it because they wanted to, and they made it clear with how little effort it always took them to bring him down. 

His odds of winning went significantly down once his sword fighting instructor was dismissed. Zuko had fire, so he didn’t need to fight with a nonbender’s weapon anymore. He was a weapon now. Not a very good one, according to his father and all his teachers, but still. 

Zuko wasn’t even fond of the sword he’d been learning, but he liked learning how to fight without fire. It was also something he seemed to be pretty good at, which was a rare thing by itself. He supposed, now that he hadn’t had a lesson since he was eight, that he would just have to get used to only using fire from now on. 

The month before Zuko’s tenth birthday, he was proven wrong. 

General Iroh did not send as many letters back home as his son did, but in the month of Zuko’s birthday he sent a long message that was delivered directly to Zuko’s parents. According to what his mother told him about the letter later in the afternoon as they sat by the pond together, the letter indicated that Iroh and Lu Ten had debated long and hard on what to get Zuko for his birthday. After all, ten was an important age. In the end, they settled on something they thought he might enjoy; sword fighting lessons under a _real_ master. Master Piandao, to be more specific. 

Zuko had been shocked by this. He thought he was pretty good with a sword, but not good enough to be taught under someone like _Piandao,_ the most amazing sword fighter who ever lived. His mother played with his hair and continued to talk, saying that Iroh had called in a favor to convince Piandao to consider him as a new student. Zuko would have to travel to meet the man at his home, but Iroh had stressed that he was not guaranteed to be taken in as a student. Years ago, Lu Ten had taken the same journey to study under Piandao and was turned away. 

Zuko’s heart thumped wildly in his chest. How could he be expected to succeed at something his cousin hadn’t? His mother sensed his stress and kissed the top of his head. 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” She said softly, rubbing his arm and pulling him just a little bit closer. 

Zuko shook his head, but leaned into the contact. He’d never been away from home before, but he was willing to do it. He knew he would miss it, but he would have to leave someday, anyway. This also wasn’t an opportunity he could pass up, even if he knew it would end in failure. 

Shockingly, though, it didn't. He arrived at Piandao's home and offered him a gift, which was customary when requesting a master like Piandao for an apprenticeship. As a prince, Zuko could have offered almost anything to the man. He had access to gold and precious stones, as well as all manners of art and wealth. However, in the letter his uncle had sent, he instructed that Zuko bring something personal to offer the master to show that he was serious. 

Zuko didn't have much to offer, in that case.

All that he had to offer, all of the things that he felt represented _him_ all fit inside a little box. Piandao took the box from him and raised an eyebrow, his otherwise stoic face remaining unchanged. 

“What is this supposed to be?” 

Zuko froze. His tone was stern, but he couldn’t tell if he sounded mad. He didn’t know him well enough to tell when he was angry or not. That made him nervous. 

“It’s...um...it’s…” he took a deep breath and held his arms out for the box. Piandao handed it back to him. Zuko couldn’t look through the box and hold it at the same time, so he set it on the ground to rummage through it. “This is a copy of my mom’s favorite play. And _this_ is one of my sister’s friend Mai’s throwing knives that she let me keep. And this is a bracelet my sister’s other friend Ty Lee made for me last year.”

There were a few other things in the box, like a hairpin that Azula lent him once when she was small and never asked for back and a flower pressed from the palace gardens that he thought was pretty. Piandao held up his hand before Zuko could continue. 

“And why did you bring me these?” 

“Uncle said to bring you something personal as a gift for considering me.” Zuko explained. 

“And you thought bringing a box stuffed with various trinkets as opposed to one would gain you favor?” 

Zuko’s face heated up. “No, sir. I’m not expecting anything from you because of this. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate this opportunity, but I didn’t know what would show that. So I brought you everything.” 

“Everything?” Piandao repeated questioningly. 

“Almost everything.” Zuko amended, mumbling in his embarrassment. “I couldn’t get the turtle duck to stay in the box.”

“Turtle duck.” 

He nodded. “I was gonna bring my favorite one, but he didn’t like it. I don’t think he likes me anymore, either.” 

“Hm.” Piandao’s expression was fixed in the same frown it had been during the whole exchange. He couldn’t tell what that meant. “I’ll accept the theater scroll, you can keep the rest for yourself. I have no use for the rest. Your uncle said you have experience with the broadsword?”

Zuko nodded, unable to make himself speak. There was no way Master Piandao was saying what he thought he was. Maybe he just really liked that play. 

“Is that the blade you wish to continue studying?”

Zuko didn’t know how it happened, but somehow he ended up with a swordmaster and a set of dao to train with. He wasn’t going to question it. 

The nature of Zuko’s tutelage under Piandao was that he would stay at the master’s house for the whole month while spending every moment he could learning the art of the sword. Piandao could rescind the invitation to stay at any point if he thought that Zuko was lacking the potential he’d initially thought was there. For some reason, this didn’t happen. Not even when Zuko was caught breaking Piandao’s rule about dishonesty. 

It was the morning after his tenth birthday, and just like all firebenders had a tendency to do, Zuko rose with the sun. Between his sword training and the landscape painting Piandao had insisted he do yesterday, the importance of the date had entirely slipped his mind. 

What didn’t slip his notice, though, was his wrist. 

There was something written on it, etched in black against his skin. Zuko stared at it, his brain still not awake enough to read the words yet. He couldn’t remember writing anything on himself, so the presence of writing left him stumped. 

It took him an extra second after he fully woke up to realize what the appearance of words on his skin _actually_ meant. 

“Master Piandao!” Zuko scrambled out of bed and into the hall, not bothering to change out of his night clothes or make himself look presentable at all. His shouts for the swordmaster echoed through the empty halls. “Master Piandao!” 

“Zuko,” his master chastised him from the kitchens where Zuko finally found him, “you should know better than to bother me this early in the day. My morning tea hasn’t even brewed yet.”

He was too excited to care, his entire being buzzing with energy as he waved his arm up towards the man. “Master Piandao, look! I have a soulmark!” 

There was a look that crossed the man’s face that Zuko couldn't identify before it was gone. Piandao averted his eyes and grasped Zuko’s wrist in his hand. His skin was rough and calloused from years of sword fighting, but unlike the way he held the hilt of a weapon his grip on Zuko was loose. Slowly, he lowered Zuko’s arm back down to his side. 

“I’m honored that you would try to show me something so special first, my young apprentice,” Piandao’s voice came out sounding almost strained, and he still was looking purposefully away from Zuko, “but I think there are other, more important people in your life you should be sharing this with other than me.” 

Zuko frowned, the sheer joy that had consumed him before now faded out to nothing. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Master Piandao.” 

Sensing the shift in his mood, Piandao squeezed his wrist once. “I was serious. It would be a privilege and an _honor_ to be given the chance to see someone’s soulmark. Especially to be the first to lay their eyes on it. But soulmarks are a supremely private thing. It’s a glimpse into the heart and soul of the person. There are plenty of other people who would be more suited to see your soulmark than me, a man you’ve known for less than a month. I don’t want you taking your own mark lightly just because you’re excited about it.” 

Zuko nodded. He understood, his master had reacted like that because this was something _personal_ , even if it was tattooed on his naked wrist for all to see. Still, it was a little disappointing that he couldn’t even celebrate his soulmark. He wiggled his wrist out of Piandao’s hold and put his hand behind his back. 

“Okay. I’ll be patient.” 

In a rare show of affection, but not as rare as Zuko had been led to believe from stories he’d heard about Piandao before, he patted the top of Zuko’s head. “Good boy.” 

His hand rested there for a moment, and when Zuko looked up at him there was a confused look in his eye. Like there was some information given that didn’t quite fit. “I may just be behind on the date, but isn’t your birthday next week?” 

Zuko’s face heated up, feeling stupid for slipping out a family secret so easily. Zuko was born a full week before his birth was actually announced and he was acknowledged as a prince. The reason for this was told every year on his real birthday, often either at the table over dinner or kneeling in front of his father as he recounted the story.

When Zuko was born, he was smaller than average. It was the middle of the night, a horrendous time for the prince of a nation that worshipped the sun and harnessed its power to be born. Practically an omen for how weak and disappointing he would remain.

His father came to greet him at the first light of Agni, but when he laid eyes on Zuko he knew there was no hope for him. He was much too frail and little. There was nothing regal wrapped in the little bundle of blankets. Worse than that, he was cold. Any child with the spark of a firebender was born warm, the little chi stirred embers in their bellies making blankets and other coverings impossibly hot over the first few weeks of life. 

His father held the little shivering thing that was Zuko, only hours old at the time, and knew exactly what he was supposed to do. 

Before he had the chance, though, Zuko’s mother screamed and tried to leave her bed. She landed on the floor, on her knees, and pleaded for the life of their firstborn. She begged his favor and understanding. Sometimes babies that were born earlier than expected were small. Sometimes they were weak. Sometimes, even if they turned out to be benders later on in life, they weren’t as easy to overheat and needed to be kept warm like a nonbender would. 

His father returned him to his mother’s waiting arms, and told her she had a week to make him appear a suitable heir to the throne. More like a prince and less like a drowned silkworm rat. 

Over his first seven days of life, Zuko had to prove himself worthy to carry the title of prince. When he was presented to the fire sages and to the public, his family lied and said that he had just been born with the coming of the dawn. Just as expected from any true prince of the Fire Nation. 

Every year on his true birthday, his father would remind him that he had only lived because of his mother’s pleading and his father’s mercy. 

Every year on his birthday, his father said he was lucky to be born. 

Zuko finished the story exactly how he remembered his father telling it, but he must have told it wrong. That was the only explanation for how ashen Piandao's face had become by the end.

Zuko didn't say anything and waited for the man to speak, but he remained silent. His hand was still on the top of Zuko's head. 

The tea kettle whistled, and that was enough to bring Piandao back to the moment. His hand left Zuko's head as he turned to work with the kettle, pouring two steaming cups of tea. 

"Here." He handed one of the cups to Zuko. The steam hit his face, it had a hint of citrus to it. "Take that to your room and write to your family about the news. Then make yourself presentable and come back here in two hours. Understand?" 

Zuko nodded, his grip on the teacup firm as he once again felt the heat rising to his face. In his excitement he'd ran out in the robes he'd slept in, and his hair was a loose, disheveled mess that fell past his shoulders. It wasn't the kind of image anyone would want to present to a swordmaster, much less the kind that a prince should. 

He turned on his heel and started to march down the hallway, back to his room. 

"Oh, and Zuko?" Piandao called before he could get too far. "One more thing." 

Zuko turned around, a questioning tilt to his head.

"Happy birthday." 

Piandao was right to tell Zuko to wait, because once he got to his room and sipped his tea, he realized there was only one person in the world he really wanted to tell. He took his tea over to the room's little desk and started to write. 

_Dear Lu Ten,_

_Last night was my birthday! I'm having so much fun learning under Master Piandao that it almost slipped my mind completely. Thank you and Uncle again for giving me the chance to do this, this is the best gift I could have imagined. When you come back, maybe I can impart some of his teachings on to you through a sparring match._

Zuko laughed to himself at the image of Lu Ten, big and strong and a newly decorated war hero, fighting him and being shocked at just how much better Zuko had gotten since he had left. In his imagination Zuko still didn't win, but the element of surprise was enough that when Lu Ten faltered, they _both_ fell in the turtle duck pond. Maybe Winai would be there, too, clapping and laughing at their antics.

 _I got another gift last night, too! I wanted to tell you first, but I got excited and told Master Piandao. I’m sorry you won’t be the first ever to know about it, but you’ll be first in the family. That must count for something._

_I woke up with a soulmark! It’s on my right wrist. I don’t want to write down what it says in this letter. I want to show you in person. I want you to be the first to see it. I can’t promise you will be, though, if you take too long to come back I might get impatient and show my mom first. I promise you’ll at least be second._

_I hope you come home soon. I miss you._

Zuko paused, second guessing his next sentence. He’d only said it once before, as Lu Ten was leaving, but it was implied enough in every stroke of ink and every interaction with his cousin before that. Something in him was itching to actually say it. At least this once. He wanted to make sure Lu Ten actually knew. 

_I love you, Lu Ten._

Zuko’s time with Master Piandao ended just a few weeks later, and he was disappointed to leave. He almost asked if he could stay and continue training. He wanted to remain at Piandao’s home, under his tutelage until he was a _real_ master just like him. He knew he couldn’t do that, though. That was a selfish request to make, especially after his Uncle had pulled some strings just to get him there in the first place. 

It was a weakness to admit it, but he was also a little happy to be going back. There was comfort in familiarity. He missed his home. Mostly he missed his mom and, though he would never admit it, he missed Azula, too. Only a little, but he still did. 

Zuko returned home with his new swords and sharpened skills, and his soulmark hidden in his sleeve, and he was happy. 

Happiness can only last so long. 

Uncle Iroh sent another letter at the walls of Ba Sing Se. This one came with gifts for his niece and nephew. A doll for Azula and a knife for Zuko. He was happy with the knife, stabbing at an invisible opponent and then pretending to die. Azula wasn’t amused by either his actions or her gift. She held it for only a moment before setting it on fire and dropping it.

He couldn’t say he was shocked by her behavior. Azula never played with dolls. The closest she ever came to playing with a doll was playing with people. The only gift she probably would have accepted would be some kind of hair trinket to keep it out of her face or a knife of her own. She wouldn’t know how to use it, but Zuko would have stepped in and showed her some moves if she asked nicely and promised not to stab him. 

Still, a gift was a gift and Zuko knew that even if you didn’t like it you weren’t supposed to burn it. 

“You know,” Azula said thoughtfully as she watched the doll burn, “if Uncle Iroh fails at Ba Sing Se, Dad will be firelord next.”

“Fails?” Zuko sat up, he’d never thought about his uncle failing before. 

“Dies, Zuzu.” She said, as if he’d misunderstood what she meant. 

“Azula!” Mom snapped at her. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“What if Lu Ten wanted _our_ father to die?” Zuko asked. 

“I’m just saying, I think our dad would make a better firelord than his tea loving kookiness.” Azula replied, crossing her arms defensively and rolling her eyes. “You can’t say you don’t agree with me, Zuzu.”

Zuko didn’t say anything. He’d never actually _thought_ about his father or his uncle becoming the firelord. He knew it would happen someday, Firelord Azulon was old and no one could live forever. Still, even in his deepest imagination he couldn’t picture it. 

Maybe he could see Lu Ten being firelord. Not uncle, though, and certainly not his father. 

Zuko took too long to reply, and that made Azula mad. She stomped her foot and huffed, and the fire encasing the doll burned just a little brighter. “Fine!” 

Azula left the room, angry for some reason that Zuko couldn't figure out. He wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to know why she seemed mad. She left the burning doll on the floor, and Zuko watched it until it was nothing but ashes. 

It was officially springtime when their uncle's next letter arrived. At first, Zuko thought nothing of it. It was one of those increasingly rare days where spending time with Azula wasn't awful. 

She really did seem unhappy to get a doll. From Azula's new game of "try to grab Zuko's knife while he's not looking" he was pretty sure she was jealous of what he got. He didn't _want_ to give up the knife, it was his and he told her so repeatedly every time she tried to take it. He could, however, give her lessons on how to use one. 

Zuko gave her the throwing knife Mai let him keep so she actually had something to practice with as he showed her the basics of knife fighting. Practice was done in secret, just like most of Zuko's practices had been around her age. Azula wanted to do it in the garden, though, because she preferred fighting and training outside. Probably so she could feel the sun on her skin better. 

Zuko didn't know what it was like to be a prodigy, or even a good bender in general, but he guessed his sister had a stronger connection to Agni than he did. Being outside in the sun probably made her feel comfortable and strong. 

He was drilling her through some of the more deadly movements while their mother watched from under the shade of a tree. She wasn't exactly fond of him teaching her something so violent, but she _did_ approve of her two children bonding. That was why Zuko asked her to keep watch over them so their father wouldn't catch and punish both of them in whatever way he saw fit. 

Zuko was in the middle of demonstrating how to eviscerate someone when the servant appeared. He paused in his training, and Azula, sensing his tension, hid the knife and stood perfectly still. Zuko watched the servant's approach warily, but the two of them were ignored in favor of their mother. The servant handed a scroll to her, bowed, and left. 

The two of them watched her untie the ribbon and crack the wax. The letter unfurled in her hands, and Zuko noticed that it looked much shorter than usual. At first he wanted to ask what was on it, but then her serene expression shifted to one of pure sorrow the likes of which he'd never seen before. A single tear rolled down her cheek. 

"Children," she rubbed her shock pale cheek with her sleeve in an attempt to hide the evidence, but they'd both already seen, "your cousin has fallen in battle." 

The knife slipped from Zuko's fingers. 

Lu Ten was dead. 

He didn't know how he got to his room, or how long it had been since he got there. Was it the same day? Was it a different day? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that no matter how long it had been, he hadn't been able to stop crying. 

Lu Ten was dead. 

Time didn't work anymore. How could it? 

Zuko didn't know how much time he spent all alone and sobbing quietly under his covers. When the knock on his door came he was almost thankful for the interruption. He crawled out of bed and wiped at his eyes, hoping that was enough to make him look presentable. 

He must not have done a very good job, because there was pity in the servant girl's eyes when she saw him. Zuko didn't like when people looked at him like that, so he dropped his gaze to the floor. He could almost make out his reflection in the polished surface. The servant didn't say a word, she just held a scroll out for him to take. He took it, bowed his thanks to her, and closed the door. 

Zuko didn't understand what he was holding. There was only one person who ever sent him letters. The scroll in Zuko's hand was definitely bound up like his handiwork. A gold wax seal and tied closed with a red string. 

It couldn't be from him, though. 

He opened the letter. 

His stomach dropped. 

_Zuko,_

_I don't know how to say this. I'm sure you've been wondering why I haven't been writing you these past few weeks. Truth is, I wanted to but I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking._

_Something happened. I won't give you all the details. You're so young and I don't want to be the source of your nightmares. Maybe when you're older I'll tell you everything. Or maybe I won't, I'm still having a hard time processing the information myself._

_Winai is dead._

_She will not be returning with me to the palace. I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to meet her._

_I don't think I'm going to be able to talk about soulmates for awhile, either. Not after what I just witnessed what happened to mine. Again, I'm sorry. I know that's something you were looking forward to, but I just can't do it._

_I want this to be done. I want Ba Sing Se to fall so I can come home and mourn her properly. There's no place for grief in battle._

_When I return, I hope you won't think less of me. I'm sure I won't be the same Lu Ten I was when I left. I feel cold all the time now, like when she left she took the sun with her._

_I know it's not something you'll want to do but when I come home again, would you have a cup of tea and sit with me? I've been doing that with Father a lot lately, and I think I finally understand why he loves it so much. Sometimes just sitting with someone you know cares about you is enough to ease the ache._

_Not always, but sometimes._

_I want to sit in the gardens with you, Zuko. I want to drink tea and hear all the fun stories you have about Master Piandao or about playing games with Azula or really anything at all. Maybe I'll even be able to tell a story about Winai. Maybe not. I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk about her fully._

_I just want to talk about anything other than the war. I want this to end._

_I promise I'll be coming home soon._

_Lu Ten_

Zuko read the letter over and over and over again. His hands were shaking and he was only vaguely aware that he was somehow crying again because of how the words were swimming on the page. 

Lu Ten's final letter to him. Every word formed with grief at a loss too big to fit on such a small surface. 

Winai was dead. 

He'd never even met her, but just from the way Lu Ten described her he felt like he knew her. The news hurt but not as much as it tore him up inside to think the last thing his cousin felt was such a painful loss. Lu Ten fought in grief and then died in it. 

Now Zuko was alone with his heartbreak. 

He must have made some kind of sound he wasn't aware of. That would be the only reason she would think it was okay for her to come in. 

"There you are." Azula sighed, sounding bored and annoyed. She was holding his knife and twirling it between her fingers. "This game's no fun if you don't look for- Zuzu?" 

Whatever taunting she was doing died in her mouth when she actually bothered to look at him. He couldn't imagine how wrecked he must have looked for her face to look so very un-Azula. Like she was _concerned_ about him or something. 

She shook her head, and the smile she usually wore returned to her face. It felt a little different from before, though. A little more forced. Azula took a step closer to him, approaching the bed. 

"What's wrong, Zuzu? Did our cousin's passing really get to you _that_ bad?" She laughed. 

Zuko couldn't be bothered to summon much of his anger at her, the heat that was usually in his words was drowned out. "Get out, Azula. I don't want to play with you right now." 

Just the mention of their cousin had gotten him sniffling again. He wiped at his face with his sleeve. How was there anything even left for him to cry? He'd been crying forever. 

Lu Ten was dead. 

Winai was dead. 

There was nothing left of either of them.

Azula may have said something, but he wasn't able to focus on it. He was breaking down right in front of her and he couldn't stop himself. 

"Zuko? Dum-Dum? You can't actually be _that_ upset, right?" She was doing the opposite of what he’d asked, just like she always did. Zuko couldn’t do anything about it, especially not in that moment. It was hard enough just trying to breathe correctly anymore. “Zuko?” 

She climbed onto the bed beside him. He backed up a bit, not wanting to be so close to his sister right now. Whatever it was she was going to do, he knew he wouldn’t like it. 

“Hey,” she held her hand out to him, “give me that.” 

He’d forgotten he was holding Lu Ten’s letter, still. It was crumpled under the tightness of his shaking fists. He didn’t want to give it to her. It was _his_. It was the last thing Lu Ten had ever sent him. He couldn’t just _give it_ to her. 

He couldn’t give it to her, but she could take it. 

It wasn’t hard for Azula to tear the paper out of his hands once she realized he wasn’t going to offer it willingly. Even on a good day, he wasn’t able to keep her from taking anything of his if she really felt like it. This was far from a good day, he didn’t even bother trying to fight her. 

Azula smoothed the paper out as best she could, eyes scanning over the words quickly as she read. “Is _this_ what’s upsetting you so much?” 

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move his head to confirm or deny it. Azula frowned and looked back down at the letter. 

“I don’t get it,” she admitted, “it’s just words on some paper. If that’s what’s making you sad, though, I know what to do about it.” 

Azula crumpled the paper up into a ball, and Zuko flinched. He hadn’t been the most careful with it himself, but seeing her crumple it so casually sent a spike of pain into his heart. 

“Azula?”

“It’s okay, Zuko.” She smiled at him, but it didn’t make him feel better. “You’ll feel better after this, promise! Everything will be okay.”

Then the paper in her hand began to smoke. 

He acted on impulse. 

“Azula, no!” Zuko yelled, pushing her and grabbing for the paper slowly catching fire in her hands. 

She fell off the bed and to the floor below, landing on her side with a solid thump. Azula scrambled to her knees, glaring back up at Zuko. He was still on the bed, looking down at her with the remnants of Lu Ten’s letter in his hands. It was mostly still intact, thankfully. 

“Why’d you do that?” She snapped up at him. “I was just trying to _help_ , stupid!” 

He finally found his rage again, heating up and rising to a vibrant flare in his stomach. “No you weren’t! You’re a liar, you just wanted to make it worse. You’re always doing that, Azula! I-”

He really shouldn’t say it. There would be no taking it back after this. He didn’t even _mean_ it.

He was just … so angry. 

“I hate you!” 

There it was. 

Azula’s eyes were huge. She looked like she’d been slapped. If there was any part of him that was satisfied to shock her, it was buried under his regret almost instantly. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked like she might cry. 

He knew better, though, and the glassy look he thought he saw in her eyes was gone almost as quickly as he saw it. She smirked at him as she got to her feet. 

“Fine.” She scoffed, smoothing out the fabric of her pants. “See if I ever try to help you again. Have fun being on your own, Zuzu.” 

Then Azula left. 

For the first time, Zuko realized just how truly alone he was. 

Everything after that was so complicated and sudden that he could barely comprehend the events as they happened. He felt so hazy, it was like things weren’t happening to him. He was just there, in the loosest sense of the word. 

His family was brought in front of Firelord Azulon. Azula showed off her bending prowess and her smarts. Zuko tried his best to copy what she did, but he’d never seen the move she’d done before. As he should have known, his attempt was a failure. He already knew he wasn’t as good a bender as his sister, he didn’t need to prove it to everyone. It was mortifying to fail like that in front of the Firelord, but when he was dismissed his mother comforted him and told him she thought he did a good job. 

“One of the great things about you, Zuko, is that you never give up.” She said quietly so that only he would hear her. “You always keep fighting, no matter what.”

He felt a little better after that. 

Everyone but father was dismissed. Zuko just wanted to leave and maybe stare out at the turtle duck pond for awhile. He had been doing that a lot lately, ever since he’d gotten Lu Ten’s letter. He wasn’t sure if it was helping much or not. 

Azula grabbed his hand and dragged him behind a curtain before he could leave. He wanted to yell at her for doing that so suddenly or ask her what she thought she was doing, but she grinned and held a finger up to her lips. She wanted to eavesdrop on father and Firelord Azulon. Who knows how much trouble they would get in if they were caught.

The things that Zuko heard behind the curtain were awful. The things he didn’t end up hearing were worse. 

Father requested he be made crown prince, since uncle Iroh had failed to take Ba Sing Se and had lost his only child in the process. Father was here, and both of his children were alive. What more was needed for him to become the next firelord? 

Firelord Azulon didn’t like that. Zuko didn’t stay to hear what happened next. He tried to take Azula with him, but when he tugged on the hand she’d still held, she let go of him and stayed put. She didn’t need him with her. 

Zuko couldn’t try to convince her to leave without giving them both away, so he didn’t. He turned around and left her there. 

Instead of the turtle duck pond, he went to his room. He laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was waiting for something, but he wasn’t sure what. His mother? Azula, maybe? More tears for Lu Ten and Winai? His father, to come and punish him for spying on his private conversation? 

Zuko shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. Whatever he was waiting for, he was scared to find out. 

Azula came, skipping and singing like the little girl she was. There was a big smile on her face. Zuko felt something lurch in his stomach. He needed to apologize to her. He had to let her know that he didn’t mean it when he’d said he hated her. He didn’t hate her. 

“Dad’s gonna kill you.” She laughed. “No, really! He is!” 

Any apology he’d had shriveled up on his tongue. He glared at her. “No he’s not! He wouldn’t do that to me.” 

“He would if Grandfather told him to.” Azula replied easily. “And he did! He said that Dad needed to experience the pain of losing a firstborn son because of what he said about Uncle.”

“You’re lying!” 

“Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know! But I don’t believe you!” He fumed. He wanted to throw something at her, but there was nothing near enough to throw and she’d dodge it perfectly, anyway. He crossed his arms over his chest instead. “Father would never do that to me!” 

“Children?” Their mother’s voice filtered in from the doorway of his room. She looked concerned. “I could hear you shouting from down the hall. What’s going on in here?” 

Something on Azula’s face must be enough to clue her in. Or at the very least, it’s enough to point her to where the trouble lies. She frowned sternly down at Azula, taking her by the hand before Azula could so much as object. 

“Young lady, we need to have a _talk_.”

She ushered Azula, struggling and complaining in their mother’s hold, out of the room. Zuko pulled the covers up over his head and curled up as small as he could. If he was invisible, maybe nothing would happen to him. 

No, that wasn’t right. Nothing would happen to him because Azula was lying. Father wouldn’t kill him. Azula was a liar and father would never do that to him. Azula was lying, she had to be. 

Azula always lied. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have. Either that or he was having a dream that was more real than usual. His mother was kneeling at his bedside, brushing his hair out of his face. He wiggled his way closer to her. 

“Zuko,” she whispered so softly that her voice was barely there, “I want you to listen carefully.”

He nodded, biting back a yawn as he did so. He would try his best. 

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you. No matter what happens from now on, you have to keep fighting. Things are going to change, but don’t let them change _you_. Never forget who you are.” 

Then her arms were around him, warm and familiar. She squeezed him tight, and he squeezed back. He was so tired still, he wanted to sleep. He wanted her to stay and sleep next to him. 

He wasn’t a little kid anymore, though. He didn’t need that. He let go of her sooner than he wanted to, and she pulled away from him, too. His blankets were pulled up to his chin, a kiss planted softly on his temple. 

Then she left. 

Zuko fell asleep. 

When he woke up, she was gone for good. 

Firelord Azulon had died in the night, taken in his sleep due to his age. On his deathbed, he had requested his second son be crowned as firelord over his firstborn. At least, that’s what father said. And who would argue with him? 

It would be treasonous to call Firelord Ozai a liar. 

Azulon’s body was still being cremated when Zuko’s father was crowned. When he stood to the crowd gathered at the palace gates, the people cheered. He made a speech, but Zuko couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. 

Zuko was told to kneel and bow his head to accept the honor of crown prince. He stared down at his lap as the piece was fixed into his hair. He was still wearing his mourning robes. The bright white stung his eyes. 

Or maybe it was all the emotion he wasn’t able to express anymore. 

There was just so much of it. 

His mother. 

Winai. 

Lu Ten. 

They were all gone, but he was still here. That didn’t seem right. 

Zuko was brought up to his feet. He looked out to the crowd below him. He thought about Lu Ten, and about how much he’d wanted to be like him. 

Lu Ten, with his bright smile. His skilled swordsman’s hands. The power of his flame, even though he’d started bending late. 

Just like Zuko had. 

Lu Ten, soulmark on his arm. Lu Ten, whose mother was gone. 

Like his own mother was. 

They had so much in common now. 

Zuko looked out to the crowd below, and he tried to smile like he thought Lu Ten would. It didn’t feel right, a pale imitation of his cousin’s grin. He bowed to the people, and they cheered.

He felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you liked this chapter <3 
> 
> Don't worry, next chapter will be the reveal of Zuko's soulmark ;) I know that's why you're here 
> 
> Planned for next time we've got: Mai being more present and bonding with Zuko, Zuko and Iroh, doing once a year bonding and stuff, and probably other things that I will pad the chapter with because I just love to type so much honestly. 
> 
> Or, you know, Zuko age 11-13, hopefully last Fire Nation chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello!!! 
> 
> Sorry this took so long, this chapter got away from me a little. My original plan was to have some nice stuff with Mai, Ty Lee, and Zuko and then have some more serious discussion stuff between Iroh and Zuko. Unfortunately, the chapter was getting pretty long, so Iroh will not be making an appearance until next chapter. 
> 
> Anyway!! This chapter is mostly just Mai and Zuko talking because honestly? They are both straight up not having a good time right now. I love Mai so much so I was really looking forward to writing her, hopefully I did okay :) 
> 
> All things considered, this chapter's actually kinda lighthearted compared to what we all know is coming up... I hope you like reading it! <3

Zuko was nearly eleven before he felt like a person again. The time between his father’s coronation and that moment was a span that was nearly lost to him. He knew that he was still going to his lessons and training as hard as he could, sometimes, when it came to his firebending training, to the point of collapse. He knew that his father, the firelord, was disappointed in his progress and he knew that Azula was only getting better and better.

For months and months and months, all Zuko did was study and train. He knew he occasionally sparred with Azula or her friends, he knew he still fed the turtle ducks, and he knew that his father would sit him down once a week and go over all of the things that Zuko had done wrong and needed to improve on or else there would be consequences and there would be no choice but to pass the crown to Azula over him. Zuko knew that all of these things happened, and they’d happened multiple times, but aside from his father’s words he didn’t remember them very well.

Zuko took every word his father said to do better to heart. He’d had to prove himself before, but now he had to do it all over again because the expectations were so different. He wasn’t just _any_ prince anymore. He was _crown_ prince. He had to be the best of the best. He had to be perfect.

He didn’t want to know what would happen if he wasn’t.

All he did was absorb the information from his lessons, practice firebending, and give his best Lu Ten smile. Every time something reminded him of his mom, or his cousin, or even his uncle that he still hadn’t seen since he’d left for Ba Sing Se, he ignored it and tried not to react. Father told him that people had been too soft on him up until this point, that a prince of any merit shouldn’t cry so much and a _crown prince_ shouldn’t even need to be told that. He was too old to cry, anyway.

So Zuko made it a point not to cry anymore. He tried not to react to anything at all. Everything about him felt mechanical. Zuko kept his expression blank, only breaking the stony mask so much like his father's only to smile when it was absolutely necessary, since that was the only other face he knew how to copy correctly. Maybe someday he would be able to do other faces, like that look in Azula's eyes or her smirk. Right now, though, he only had the two faces he could fall back on.

For almost a year, he was able to keep his promise not to cry or have any emotional outburst of any kind. His father said he would have been proud of him if that was something that could be counted as an accomplishment, but it wasn't and so he didn't have anything to be proud of him for. That stung, but Zuko didn't even so much as flinch. He just nodded and stared blankly back at his father, his gaze trained on the pronged gold hairpiece. His father may not have been proud of him, but Zuko felt just the slightest burst of pride in himself, anyway.

He would have been able to keep his promise for longer, maybe even forever, if it hadn't been for Ty Lee.

It was a hot autumn night. By all accounts, he should have been sleeping. Like most nights, though, he was having a hard time doing that. He had a little candle near his bed that he was controlling the little flame with to keep it just bright enough to read by. He was in the middle of rereading a history scroll about Sozin’s campaigns against the Air Nomads, specifically how the Fire Nation army was able to infiltrate the air temples without the use of flight, when something tapped against his window and made him jump.

The fire he’d been splitting his focus on flared and he almost lost full control of it in his surprise. He put it out quickly before it could get too out of hand, plunging his room into total darkness. Despite how stuffy and hot it was in his room, he shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. There was something still tapping insistently against his window.

His window, which was very, very far off the ground, with no way to reach it from any direction.

The tapping continued, Zuko chose not to look at whatever it was out of fear of what could be waiting for him outside in the dark. He stared at the crumpled scroll in his lap. Hopefully he would be able to straighten the paper out later or he might end up in trouble. He didn’t want the woman who ran the palace library to be mad at him.

A voice carried through the thick glass, accompanying the tapping, and the sound of it made Zuko feel stupid for being scared in the first place.

"Zuko!" Ty Lee's normally cheerful voice hissed at him in a whisper. "Open up! I want to talk with you!"

Zuko scrambled off his bed, nearly knocking the scroll onto the floor in his haste and ran over to the window. Before he could question what Ty Lee was doing there or how she got there, he was already unlocking the window and waving his hand at her in an indication for her to move out of the way. His window opened outward, and he didn't want to knock his sister's friend off her precarious seat on the window sill.

With her uncanny skill, she repositioned herself so she was hanging onto his window with just the tips of her fingers, lowering the rest of her body out of sight. When the window was pushed open, she pulled herself back up with the strength of her arms. Zuko offered his hand to pull her the rest of the way inside, even though he knew she didn't need his help at all. She smiled at him and took it, climbing in as quietly as possible.

"Thanks, Zuko!" Ty Lee's voice was still barely above a whisper, but her tone was the usual cheerful one. She hadn't let go of his hand yet.

"What are you doing here, Ty Lee?" He whispered back furiously. "It's the middle of the night! We could get in trouble."

Her smile didn't so much as falter. She laughed, throwing her free hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. The other was still holding his. "I know that! That's why we won't get caught."

She said it with such confidence he had no choice but to believe her.

“Okay. But why are you here?” Zuko asked again.

Ty Lee turned her head from left to right, as if she needed to make sure they were alone and there was no one else who would listen in. Then she leaned in even closer to him. “Mai’s been gloomy lately.”

“More than usual?”

Ty Lee ignored his comment. “I’m worried about her, but I don’t think she’ll talk about what’s wrong. I do want to make her feel better, though.”

Zuko nodded. He understood what Ty Lee was saying, if Mai was feeling bad and needed cheering up then he would help however he could. Mai and Ty Lee were Azula’s friends, but he liked them both. Still, that didn’t explain why Ty Lee was in his room in the middle of the night.

“There’s a circus in town right now, and I wanted to take Mai there to have some fun!” Ty Lee said, pulling back a little bit and grinning at him. “We were on our way there when I thought you might want to come, too!”

“A circus?” Zuko repeated, tilting his head in confusion. “Right now?”

She nodded, her braid bobbing behind her vigorously.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“You keep saying that.” Ty Lee’s smile slipped into something closer to a pout. “Do you not want to come with?”

“No, I do. I’m just confused on why we’re going right now.”

“Mai’s parents wouldn’t let her go to the circus if they knew.” She shrugged. “We’re going in secret.”

“Secret?” Zuko was intrigued. It had been a long time since he’d left the palace, and even longer since he’d done so in secret. Now that he was thinking about it, he was itching to leave.

“Come on!” Ty Lee tugged on his hand, trying to drag him towards the open window. “Let’s go, Mai’s waiting for us!”

“Wait, she’s outside?” Zuko asked, allowing himself to be pulled.

Ty Lee climbed up onto the window sill, finally letting go of Zuko’s hand. She nodded down towards the ground. “Yeah, she’s right there! I told you we were on our way to the circus when I decided to invite you, too.”

Zuko pulled himself up so he was almost halfway out the window, poking his head out to look all the way down. It wasn’t a dizzying high height, but it was high enough up that if he jumped from his window it would probably hurt. He squinted into the dark, barely able to make out the small shape below. It was dark, and Mai had a penchant for darker clothing so she blended almost seamlessly into the night without even trying.

She tilted her head upwards when she heard them talking at the window. From what Zuko could tell of her expression, she was frowning. He couldn’t tell if it was her usual expression or if it was different from where he was standing.

“Are you coming or not?” Mai called up to them. “I’m getting bored.”

Zuko tried not to flinch at how loud her voice was, Mai wasn’t whispering like Ty Lee had been earlier. Of course her voice wouldn’t carry at the distance if she didn’t almost shout, but he didn’t like the possibility of attention being drawn to them. It was a miracle they were even able to make it here without getting caught yet.

“We’re coming!” Ty Lee replied, her voice mirroring Mai’s in volume, but not in tone. She inclined her head towards Zuko questioningly. “Right?”

He nodded. “Right.”

He pulled himself the rest of the way onto the sill beside Ty Lee. There was barely enough room for the two of them, so it was good that they weren’t planning on staying in one place for very long. Zuko balanced as best he could on the ledge and watched Ty Lee drop once again so she was hanging on with only her fingertips. His untrained eye wasn’t able to locate the holds she was using to ease herself down. He watched her curiously as she reached the ground in a matter of seconds, jumping down the last few feet and landing beside Mai. She nearly toppled over, but caught herself at the last moment with help from Mai’s steadying hand.

Ty Lee grinned up at him and gestured for him to come down, too. It hadn’t really hit him until that moment, but there was a knot of dread in his stomach as he realized that she expected him to come down the same way. Zuko was good at climbing, and he wasn’t a coward, but in that moment he was torn between following her or retreating back into his room and locking the window again. From where he stood on the window sill, the wall looked smooth. That wasn’t the case, of course, since Ty Lee had so easily climbed up and down it, but it still _looked_ like it was, and he wasn’t as certain that he could find those same footholds in the dark. Before, that wouldn’t have mattered. When he was fourth in line for the throne instead of first, what he did wasn’t important.

Important people, Zuko had been told over and over and over again any time he did anything, had to be serious and dignified at all times or they would never earn respect. For better or worse, Zuko was one of those important people now.

He looked down at Mai and Ty Lee, staring up at him and waiting. Ty Lee, patient, wide eyed, and bursting with excited energy for the adventure ahead. Mai, frowning, dark eyes almost glazed over, but her head tilted expectantly towards him. Zuko had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter to them how serious or dignified he was acting, if he didn’t climb down and join them they would lose any respect they had in him forever.

Slowly, and with more care than he would have used before, he scaled down the wall. It took him longer than Ty Lee to find the ground, and he felt a little self conscious of the girls watching him as his feet finally brushed against the warm grass and solid earth.

"Finally," Mai sighed, "you took so long to come down I thought you'd changed your mind."

"Course not." Zuko shook his head. "I love the circus."

"Could've fooled me." Before Zuko could reply and ask her what she could have possibly meant by _that_ , she looked him up and down. The corner of her lip turned up for the briefest of moments before she forced the frown back. "You're in your pajamas."

"I-" whatever response he'd been about to give left his mind immediately once he processed what she said. He looked down and actually considered what he was wearing. Comfy, loose pants that cinched at his ankles and a sleeveless tunic that was still a little too big for him, plus a thin robe he had tied around his waist. It was all very obviously pajamas. "Yes, I am."

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the ground instead, hoping the dark and his loose hair would be enough to obscure the visible heat rising to his cheeks. It was only then that he noticed that he also wasn't wearing shoes.

He did not think this through.

"I think you look really comfy, Zuko!" Ty Lee said, clearly trying to drag him out of his embarrassment. "And the fact that you're not wearing shoes means you'll be extra good at sneaking!"

He hunched in on himself involuntarily, trying to make himself as small as possible. He'd really hoped they hadn't noticed he was barefoot. So much for _that_.

"You know what? I think that was such a good idea, I'm gonna take off my shoes, too!" Ty Lee rambled on as she started to slip off her shoes. Zuko looked up just as Mai grabbed her arm.

"Leave your shoes _on_ , Ty Lee. It's not your fault Zuko forgot his." Mai scolded. Ty Lee put her foot back on the ground. With that settled, Mai turned to Zuko. She was still frowning. "We'll try not to go anywhere that'll hurt your feet."

Zuko appreciated it, but he also resented the fact that they now had to go out of their way to keep his feet safe. He shook his head. "I'll be fine."

Mai raised an eyebrow, but chose not to argue the point further. She shrugged. “If you say so.”

Ty Lee’s hand clapped itself onto Zuko’s arm, shocking him out of his head. With her other hand, she grabbed Mai’s and started to pull insistently on them both. “Come on! We don’t want to miss the circus!”

Ty Lee was right, they didn’t want to miss the circus. And the longer they stood around out here, the more likely they would get caught. Once she realized he was coming along, Ty Lee let go of his arm and led them away, Zuko guessed it was the way she’d come in. He tried to memorize her route in case the one he usually used wasn’t available for whatever reason.

The three of them crept quietly through the shadows, climbing up to the roofs and walking their way slowly across without drawing any attention to themselves. There were a few moments of mild panic where Zuko saw a guard patrolling in their area and he thought for sure he would be exposed. They never bothered to look up, and every time the guards left his line of sight his heart slowly made its way back down from his throat and into his chest.

Zuko and Ty Lee were both good at climbing and balancing, and though Mai wasn’t bad at it, she wasn’t quite as steady as they were. Ty Lee had her hand out to her the whole time, and Zuko was behind her, ready to catch her if need be. Hopefully it wouldn’t because they were on a roof and he knew for a fact that falling off a roof when you weren’t planning to tended to hurt, but still.

They made it outside the palace without incident and started walking. Zuko kept his eyes trained on the ground, watching out for anything sharp or gross in his path that he might accidentally step on. Beside him, Mai and Ty Lee both walked calmly and with their heads held high, as if three children walking around unsupervised at night was a completely normal thing that no one should question.

The three of them kept up that steady, calm pace until Ty Lee turned a corner into an alley and ran. Zuko and Mai followed after her as quickly as they could, neither of them having the time or the breath to question her. The three of them were running through abandoned, empty streets, the path ahead barely lit.

Ty Lee was far ahead of them, she had stopped running and was alternating between cartwheels and handstands and all sorts of other flips that Zuko didn’t know the names of yet. Her laughter pierced through the quiet, heavy air and seemed to fill the whole street. He and Mai stopped running and just watched her.

“Aren’t you guys excited?” Ty Lee giggled as she somersaulted forward before springing to her feet. She turned so she could talk face to face with the two of them, continuing to stroll backwards. “We’re outside! On our own! Just the three of us!”

She threw her arms out and twirled, throwing her head back to the sky as she laughed. “I’ve never felt this free! You must feel the same, right? Zuko? Mai?”

Ty Lee’s wide grin turned back to the both of them. She dropped her arms and sighed, but her smile didn’t fully leave her face. “You could try to look a little less gloomy.”

Zuko exchanged a glance with Mai. She was still frowning, as she usually was. He wasn’t sure what more Ty Lee could have expected from her.

“I’m not gloomy.” Zuko replied.

“You don’t exactly look like you’re having fun, though.” Mai said. “You haven’t smiled once since we left.”

“Well, neither have you!” Zuko snapped back at her.

“Are either of you having fun right now?” Ty Lee asked.

“ _Yes!_ ”

Zuko kicked a pebble down the road. “How much longer til we get to the circus?”

“We’re nearly there!” Ty Lee spun on her toes and bounced along, ignoring the slightly sour mood brewing between Zuko and Mai behind her. “I’m a little disappointed you guys don’t seem to like being outside by ourselves as much as I do, but I’m sure you’ll both like the circus! They’ve got a _lot_ of animals, and a contortionist, and a tightrope walker, and a knife thrower-”

“A knife thrower?” Mai interrupted curiously.

“Uh huh!” Ty Lee nodded enthusiastically. “And sometimes her knives are on _fire!_ ”

Zuko’s eyes widened, and once again he found himself sparing a look towards Mai. Her expression was still blank and the frown was still on her face, but it was closer to her neutral one and less like her angry one. If there was one thing Mai was interested in above all else, it was honing her knife skills. Why Ty Lee had been holding out on telling Mai about the circus’s knife thrower, he would never know.

Ty Lee continued to ramble on about the knife thrower as they walked on. Mai seemed more engaged now, almost excited even though it wasn’t really expressed on her face. She was walking with an almost bounce to her step, like Ty Lee’s, and her shoulders weren’t as hunched anymore. He hadn’t even noticed how tense Mai was until she’d loosened up a little.

There are bright lights in the distance, and Zuko could just barely make out the big, colorful structure they were illuminating. No doubt it was the circus tent. Zuko's excitement bubbled up from his stomach and he quickened his pace just a bit. He'd never actually _seen_ a circus before, but he had heard about them and read stories set in them. Places like the circus were below his station, considered peasant entertainment unbefitting of royalty.

It hit him in that moment as the tent loomed larger than life in front of him that if Ty Lee hadn't come and dragged him out now, he probably would have never come here.

Most likely, Mai wouldn't have, either.

Ty Lee doubled back to them and linked her arms in both of theirs, sandwiching herself between them. "It'll be awhile before they start. Let's go look at the animals!"

From her iron position in the middle, she maneuvered them both past the tent and over to a fenced in area to the side. The fence itself didn't look very strong, like it was barely stuck in the ground and would come apart easily if Zuko pried hard enough. He didn't want to accidentally knock it over, so he leaned carefully against it as he peered over.

Encircled in the fence were big cages with wheels, most wide and standing taller than Zuko. A few of them were empty, but the majority of them held shapes of animals that he could just barely make out.

The empty cages seemed to mean that some of the animals were currently roaming free. None of them were very close, so Zuko had a hard time seeing the prowling, shifting figures in the shadows. There was one that was making its way towards them slowly, and he focused solely on that one.

"Ty Lee! Ty Lee!" Zuko tapped on her shoulder vigorously to get her attention. "What's that?"

Ty Lee's gaze followed out to the animal Zuko was pointing towards. The animal was moving slowly, its body looked solid and strong, the scales across its back a bright green. The legs, Zuko noticed as the animal approached closer, it's body swaying back and forth in a zigzagging motion, looked almost too thin to hold the rest of its large frame. That was a little worrying, but the animal seemed healthy enough from where he could see it so it was probably fine.

"Oh!" She said excitedly. "That's a pit viper horse! They can be kind of dangerous in the wild, but this one's tamed. The animal wrangler told me they raised him since he was an egg, so he knows how to handle people well."

"Yeah?" Zuko stuck his hand out to the viper horse for the animal to smell. It was close enough that he could touch it, but he was resisting the urge until he knew for sure it was safe to do so. The viper horse's forked tongue flicked out at his open palm, and he nearly jumped. "What's his name?"

"Um…" Ty Lee screwed her face up in thought. "Mushi, I think."

“Mushi?” He laughed as the viper horse leaned his face into his hand. “That’s a dumb name.”

“You named a turtle duck Fire Flake.” Mai pointed out.

“I _like_ fire flakes.” Zuko said, before thoughtfully adding, “I like that turtle duck a lot, too.”

“I think they sell fire flakes over there.” Ty Lee replied, bouncing excitedly. “I’ll go get some!”

She ran off in the direction of where the fire flake cart must have been, leaving Zuko and Mai by themselves. Mai curled her fingers into the animal’s brown, glossy mane. “Mushi seems to like you.”

Zuko nodded, running his fingers over the smooth, warm scales of the viper horse’s snout. “I like him, too. Do you think they’d let me ride him?”

“Hm.” Mai tilted her head to the side. “Probably not.”

“What if I told them I’m the crown prince and demanded it?”

She looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “The prince? Outside alone at night in his pajamas? I don’t think they’ll believe you.”

His face heated up again, he’d almost forgotten about that. He looked away from her and down at his bare feet. “What if I climb over the fence and do it anyway?”

“I’ll cover for you.” Mai offered. “But only if I get to ride, too.”

“Of course.”

“I’m back!” Ty Lee yelled excitedly, shaking a little bag above her head. “Look, fire flakes!”

Mai pulled herself away from the fence as Ty Lee opened the bag. The flakes inside were fresh, hot enough that they were steaming. Just the smell from the bag was spicy enough that Zuko’s mouth almost started watering.

Ty Lee dumped a handful of the fire flakes into Mai’s extended hand. Then she turned to Zuko, and he held out his hands for the same. He popped them into his mouth, and the taste was instantly familiar and heart wrenching.

Lu Ten loved fire flakes. He’d written about it once or twice.

The last time Zuko had fire flakes, he’d eaten them in honor of Lu Ten. He’d hoped that the next time he could share them with Lu Ten in person.

Now Lu Ten was dead, and Zuko’s mouth was full of fire flakes.

He swallowed, and it all threatened to come back up again.

“Zuko?” Ty Lee’s voice broke through his overwhelmed thoughts. She was frowning, he saw. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but he felt like he was lying. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. Ty Lee held up the bag of fire flakes up to her nose and sniffed. “Did I get a bad batch?”

“No, they’re good.” Zuko insisted. His stomach was churning, but he put on his best Lu Ten smile to reassure her. “Thanks, Ty Lee.”

Mai smacked his arm. The strike wasn’t hard, but it was surprising. Zuko rubbed the spot and turned to her, snapping angrily. “What was that for?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“That!” She gestured up to his face, her wide sleeve billowing nearly hitting him. “That _smile_!”

Zuko’s face fell, both confused and hurt by her outburst. “You don’t like my smile, Mai?”

“No!” Mai was so furious she was almost yelling. “I don’t! Not when it’s fake, not when it’s like _that_.”

“Okay.” Zuko nodded, biting his lower lip and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at his bare feet in the grass and took a deep breath, trying to get the heat behind his eyes to go away. “Then I won’t anymore. Sorry.”

“Don’t.” Mai groaned, dropping her face into her hands and shaking her head slowly. “Don’t apologize. I’m just… I thought we were having a good time, Zuko.”

“So did I!” Zuko couldn’t help the way his voice raised and nearly cracked. He hugged his arms tighter. “We were having fun and then you got mad at me for _smiling!_ And earlier you got mad at me for _not_ smiling! I don't get it! I don’t know what I’m supposed to make of that, Mai! Did you just want me to stand here and be miserable instead?”

“That depends,” Mai peeked at him from between her fingers, but her glare was still sharp, “ _are_ you miserable?”

“No!” He snapped, stomping his foot angrily. As soon as he said it, though, he paused. _Was_ he miserable?

He didn’t think he was right at that moment. He was outside with his sister’s friends at the circus. They were sharing a bag of fire flakes and waiting for the show to start.

Zuko didn’t think he liked fire flakes anymore, though. The taste reminded him of Lu Ten and made him feel sad and nauseous.

As for being outside, there was a part of him still reeling at the thought of getting in trouble. He was nervous and a little embarrassed about being in his pajamas. There was also part of him that was confused about why he was even there, when Mai and Ty Lee were friends with Azula and not him.

He was feeling a lot of things, most of which were negative, but was he _miserable_?

Zuko shook his head and leveled a glare just as intense back at Mai.

"What's it matter if I'm miserable or not? We're not here for me! We're here for _you_!"

Mai's hands dropped fully from her face, her expression almost blank. "What?"

Now that he'd turned the conversation off of himself, Zuko didn't hesitate to continue. "Yeah! Ty Lee said that you were acting different so she brought you to the circus to cheer you up. And she's right, you _are_ different! You've been mean and snippy for no reason and even though you're always frowning I've never seen you _this_ unhappy and I don't know what to do about it."

Mai looked from him over to Ty Lee, her eyebrows furrowed and her frown going from enraged to what Zuko thought might have been confusion. Reading faces was always hard, but Mai's in particular was especially tough. "You said we were here because you were worried about Zuko."

" _Me?_ " Zuko repeated, incredulous. "Why would you be worried about me? I'm _fine_. Never been better! It's _you_ who we should be worried about, right, Ty Lee?"

He turned to Ty Lee, waiting for her to back him up. Her eyes were flicking between the two of them, and she was wringing the bag of fire flakes between her hands almost nervously.

“Ty Lee!” Mai snapped. “Tell him!”

“Tell _me?_ Tell her!”

Ty Lee took a deep breath, hanging her head as if she couldn’t handle the weight of their argument anymore. The breath was released in a long, drawn out sigh. “I really thought this was gonna work.”

“You thought… what was gonna work?” Zuko asked, all his anger draining from him as suddenly as it had flared up.

“I was hoping I could just Azula both of you into feeling better but I guess I have to come clean.” Ty Lee said, raising her hands up in surrender. The wrinkled bag of fire flakes was still held in a tight grip in her left hand. “I’ve been worried about _both_ of you. For awhile I thought I could ignore it and it would all go away because it’s been a pretty bad year for you, Zuko, but you haven’t been yourself in a really long time. As for you, Mai, I only started to get worried more recently. Zuko’s right, you’ve been more unhappy right now than I’ve ever seen you before and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

“So your master plan was to take us both to the circus and hope we both had fun?” Mai asked, sounding bitter but just as confused as Zuko felt.

Ty Lee nodded, her head still hanging guiltily so he was able to watch her long braid bob behind her. “I thought if we all came and you guys tried to make each other feel better, it might work out. Plus, who doesn’t love the circus? Being here would cheer anybody up, I thought.”

If Zuko had been cheered up at all, he wasn't anymore. He turned on his heel and started to walk through the grass, back to the road.

"Zuko?" Ty Lee called after him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home!" He yelled back, not turning around and continuing resolutely forward.

“Do you even know how to get back from here?”

“It’s a big palace! How hard could it be to find?” Zuko sneered down at the ground, not bothering to look at either of the girls he was addressing. If he turned around he might lose his nerve and go back. Right now he was angry and a little hurt and he didn’t want to look at whatever face Ty Lee was making right now. “Don’t even _think_ about following me!”

Zuko stomped off, leaving the girls and the circus far behind him for the dark, empty road. He grit his teeth as he marched on, glaring down at the ground to make sure he didn’t step on anything on his way. He’d never regretted forgetting shoes more than that moment.

The palace was harder to find than he’d thought. In the dark, Zuko thought he could make out the outline of the palace far in the distance. He hadn’t thought they’d gone that far, but clearly he was wrong. He was also having a difficult time making sure he was on the right path, his eyes continually flicking between the ground and to the far off building. He wondered if he would be able to sneak back in as easily as he’d snuck out now that he was alone.

He was so lost in trying to plan the perfect route back home that he was completely shocked by the hand that smacked hard into his back and sent him lurching forward. Zuko gasped and just barely caught himself, his foot scraping up dirt. His eyes flickered to the side, and his glare almost faltered when he saw Mai, not Ty Lee, beside him.

“I told you not to follow me.”

“You were being stupid, we both know you don’t know how to get back home from here.” Mai replied, rolling her eyes as she fell into step with him. “Besides, I’m just as mad at Ty Lee as you are about this.”

Mai’s hand fell away from his back, subtly moving a bit in front of him so she was leading the way. Zuko grit his teeth, annoyed that she thought he needed the help, but holding his tongue. He really didn’t know where he was going, and it was more important he kept himself from stepping on anything bad. She didn’t say anything, and for awhile, neither did he.

The silence hanging between them was uncomfortable and stifling, and Zuko found himself breaking it despite himself. “I can’t believe she tried to manipulate us.”

He glanced up at Mai’s back in front of him, her shoulders rising and slumping back down in a shrug. “I believe it. I don’t like it, but I believe it. It’s just like her to try to channel Azula and end up with having fun together at the circus as her ultimate plan.”

Zuko’s lip twitched upwards, he couldn’t even imagine Azula dragging anyone off to a circus, much less in the middle of the night to make them feel better. It did seem just like the type of thing Ty Lee would do, though.

“I’m annoyed about it,” Mai continued, sighing heavily, “but I get why she did it. The worst part about the whole thing I think was that it was working.”

“Yeah?” He caught up to her, standing just over her shoulder and glancing at her face.

She met his eyes, they were warm and light brown. Zuko felt his face start to heat up for what felt like the millionth time that night, and he quickly averted his gaze away from hers. His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and he was almost surprised to see the small, soft smile there.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It was.”

“It was working on me, too.” Zuko admitted, hanging his head and staring at the road. From his peripheral vision, he saw that his fingers were really close to Mai’s. They were almost touching. “How’d she convince you, anyway? You said she told you that you were going for me? I don’t get it, though, I’m fine. What did she say to you?”

“She didn’t have to say much.” Mai said, shrugging once again. The smile fell from her face, and it was like it was never there at all. “You think you’re fine, but you’re not. You’ve been… different, for a bit now.”

Zuko nodded. He knew he was different now, but that was on purpose. “I’m better now.”

“No you’re not. Different’s not better when it’s like this. Different’s not better when you’re not you anymore.”

Zuko tilted his head in confusion. “I’m still _me_ , Mai.”

She shook her head. “But you haven’t been _acting_ like you. You don’t talk like you used to or laugh or smile or even get mad like you anymore. You act like-”

Mai stopped herself, chewing on her lower lip. Zuko bumped his arm against hers, whatever she was trying to say, he wanted to hear it. “I act like _what?_ ”

“You act like every other noble I know.”

She said it like it was a bad thing, like acting like a noble wasn’t exactly what Zuko was trying to do this entire time. “Good.”

“No!” Mai snapped, running her hand over her face. “Not good! I don’t like crown prince Zuko who acts like the definition of a noble. I like Azula’s brother, Zuko, who’s really nice and kind of a dork and likes to fight and read plays and does stuff a noble shouldn’t. I liked you more before.”

"Oh, I get it." He finally understood what Mai's problem was with him. Honestly, it hurt, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. "You don't like me anymore."

Mai stopped moving. Zuko made it a few paces ahead of her before he realized it, and he turned to see what made her pause. She was frozen in place in the middle of the street, wide eyed with her hands hovering close to her face.

"How could you say that?" She asked, her voice almost too quiet to hear. " _Of course_ I still like you, Zuko."

As Mai raised her eyes to him, the upset visible in her shiny gaze, he felt like he was pinned where he stood. He tried to think of something to say, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work right, either. He had no idea how to react or reply. Zuko and Mai both stood in the middle of the street, staring at each other and waiting for the other to say something.

It had been a long time since anyone had told Zuko they liked him, and it was nice to hear. He was still confused, since she’d said it during an argument where she’d pretty much said she _didn’t_ like him anymore and that she was worried about him for reasons he didn’t really get. His emotions were in a turmoil in his chest, warm and heavy and unstable.

Mai’s eyes flickered away from his own, down to her slowly lowering hands. Without the weight of her gaze on him, he didn’t feel quite as frozen anymore.

“Well,” Zuko’s tongue finally loosened, and he awkwardly put his hands on his hips for lack of something else to do with his arms, “I still like you, too.”

“Thanks.” Mai’s face reddened, and he thought he saw her smile again. He couldn’t be sure of either thing, though, the lighting wasn’t great. She folded her hands in front of her, her wide sleeves completely covering them. “What about you?”

Zuko’s eyebrows furrowed. “What _about_ me?”

She crossed the distance between them and kept walking. She didn’t look back, resuming her position of leading him back home again. “What did Ty Lee tell you?”

“Not a lot.” He said, easily falling into step behind her. “She just said that you were upset and she was worried about you.”

Mai hummed thoughtfully. “She really didn’t have to do much to convince us, did she?”

“No.” Zuko shook his head. “I guess not.”

"I think you two are the only ones who even noticed I was upset." She said, sighing as she stared down at her hands. "I thought I was doing a good job acting like usual, but I guess you can't hide things from people who know you well."

"So she wasn't lying when she said you were upset?"

Mai shook her head. "No. No point in pretending otherwise. And she wasn't lying about you, either, even if you won't admit it yet."

Zuko chose to ignore that. "What are you upset about?"

She glanced over at him briefly before her gaze dropped again. “My parents want me to do something that I don’t want to, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Even though the night was practically sticky with heat, his blood ran cold and he suppressed a shiver. His breath caught in his throat. If there was one thing Zuko knew, it was parental pressure.

“What do they want you to do?”

She sighed and kicked a rock in her path. “They want me to get engaged.”

Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I can’t even imagine being engaged right now.”

“Of course you can’t. You’re a prince, Zuko, your parents don’t need to use you to gain a higher status.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek in annoyance. Of course, someday he knew he’d probably be placed in a political marriage for the betterment of the nation. It wouldn’t happen for a long time, and when it finally did he would get more of a say about who he was marrying than he assumed Mai did.

Zuko’s silence went on for too long, so Mai continued unhindered. “My parents aren’t… they’re good people, but they only care about me making political connections and making them look good. That’s how I became friends with Azula, my parents found out the princess was at the academy and told me to make friends with her. I hoped being friends with her would be enough, but I guess it wasn’t, since they want me married off. Who knows what else they’ll want from me after that? Political upheave? Rubbing elbows with other socialites? Grandchildren? When will it end?”

Mai’s hands were in her hair, frantically pulling strands loose from her buns as she considered the life that was waiting for her. Just thinking about it made Zuko want to tear his own hair out in sympathy.

“Mai,” his voice came out quiet, and he bumped her with his elbow to make sure she was listening, “that sounds awful. They shouldn’t be making you deal with that. You’re not even ten.”

She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “I’ll be ten in the spring.”

“That’s still pretty young.” Zuko replied, softly bumping his arm against her once again. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have to get engaged at all ever. Unless you wanted to. I feel like you wouldn’t want to, though, you have a lot of cooler, better things going on.”

Mai’s hands left her hair and fell back down to her sides, her mouth twitched upwards. “Cooler, better things?”

Zuko nodded confidently. “The coolest things. You don’t need me to tell you that, though. You already know.”

“You’re right, I do.” Mai nodded back. The slight smile on her face fell, and her eyes landed back on the road again. Zuko noted with surprise that they were a lot closer to the palace now. “Zuko, can I tell you something?”

He was pretty sure she’d been telling him things all night, but he nodded anyway. “Okay.”

“When I said I liked you more before, I meant I liked when you were like this all the time.” She waved her hand up and down at him. “You never used to shy away from saying whatever you felt before. You used to give your all in _everything_ and even though that was sometimes exhausting to keep up with, it was still really fun. I’ve already said this, but you’ve been different since…”

Zuko filled in her hesitating blank. “Since I became crown prince.”

She nodded. “Yeah. You’ve been different since… that. But tonight almost felt like normal again and I’m really mad about the fact that I fell right into Ty Lee’s trap, because I did have fun.”

“Yeah.” Zuko nodded. “Me, too. We really need to give her more credit, she’s a mastermind.”

“A genius at emotional manipulation.” Mai agreed before falling right back into what she was saying. “Listen, I know you have stuff going on like how I do and you’re working really hard at it, but… do you think you could ever go back to you? To embarrassing Zuko who sneaks out windows without shoes and threatens to hop fences to ride viper horses?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, it was the most honest answer he could give her. “I guess I could try.”

His eyes met hers, and he saw the way they widened when she looked at him. His face was hot, but he was glad to see that her face was just as red as his felt. “You’re smiling.”

Zuko broke eye contact and covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” One of Mai’s hands reached towards him and took hold of his, lowering it away from his face. He looked back up at her, and she was smiling right back. “It’s nice.”

Zuko’s birthday passed without incident. Aside from the story his father told every year, now with an added bit about how his mother wasn’t there to protect him anymore so he would _really_ need to step up, his birthday was mostly unacknowledged. One moment he was ten, and the next he was eleven, and it meant absolutely nothing.

The rest of winter passed and warmed slowly to spring. He barely noticed it.

The sun was shining down so bright Zuko was nearly blinded by the light that sliced through the windows in the hall and spilled over the floor as he wandered around the palace. He desperately wanted to go outside, but his father said that all the time he spent lazing around outside was interfering with his studies. For the time being, he wasn’t allowed outside until his tutors said he was doing better, but he doubted they ever would.

He was basking in the sunshine filtered through the glass, leaning as much as he dared against the window, when Azula entered the hall. The heels of her boots clicked rhythmically against the floor as she marched towards him. Zuko pulled himself away from the window, straightening up and continuing on in the direction he’d been headed before he got distracted. Unfortunately, that meant he would need to pass by Azula on his way.

Zuko kept his head down when he walked by her, trying his best to be ignored. He didn’t want to deal with her or her insults. Azula wasn’t having any of that, though. When Zuko tried to brush past her, she purposefully altered her course and bumped into his shoulder.

“Hey, Zuzu,” she stopped him, her hand on his elbow gripping tightly. He looked up at her and found her smirking, “Mai’s waiting for you in the courtyard, she wants to talk to you about something.”

Zuko frowned in confusion. “Why?”

Azula shrugged, but from the look on her face it seemed like she was lying. “No idea, I didn’t care enough to find out. If I were you, I’d hurry up and go to her. It’s impolite to leave a girl waiting.”

Zuko nodded and pulled his arm away from her. He continued the direction he was going, picking up his pace so he was almost running, but not quite so he wouldn’t get in trouble if he was caught.

“Before I forget,” Azula called after him, making him pause and turn towards her once again. There was something in her eyes and in her sharp smile that said she knew something, but wouldn’t tell him, “remember to wish her a happy birthday. She just turned ten.”

He didn’t get the chance to respond before she turned back around and continued on her way. Zuko didn’t have the time to dwell on Azula’s crypticism, so he chose to ignore it for now and ran off towards the garden.

Zuko stepped out into the fresh air and the sunshine, and he felt something tense in his body loosen even as his stomach was eaten up with anxiety. If he was caught out here, he had no idea what his punishment would be. But he wanted to be outside, and he wanted to talk to Mai, so he resolved to take whatever he was given.

Mai was pacing back and forth in front of the fountain he’d pushed her in last year. His face heated up from old embarrassment with the memory, and he wanted to bury his face in his hands. Honestly, he was surprised Mai ever wanted to talk to him again after how humiliating that whole experience had been for both of them. For some reason, she still talked to him, and for some other reason, she actively chose to talk to him _here_.

He took a deep breath and approached her slowly. “Hi, Mai.”

She jumped and spun around to face him. She’d been too lost in her thoughts to even notice him coming. “Zuko.”

Mai bowed quickly, and when she raised herself back up the surprise was gone but she was still visibly nervous. Zuko wasn’t sure what to do to make her less nervous, so he just bowed back a little lower than necessary. “Azula said you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Mai nodded, but didn’t continue.

“So,” he urged, taking a step closer, “what did you want to talk about?”

Mai looked around, checking to see if they were alone. She sighed deeply, running a hand over her face.

“I don’t know how to say it,” she admitted, “it’d probably be easier to just show you.”

Mai started to loosen the high collar of her tunic, and Zuko thought nothing of it for a moment. She was clearly nervous, maybe having the fabric so close her throat was too constricting. He wasn’t going to question that.

What he was going to question was WHY WAS MAI TAKING HER SHIRT OFF?

“Mai!” Zuko slammed a hand over his eyes. His face felt like it was on fire, and his voice was strained from how embarrassed and frantic this whole situation was making him. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that?”

“A little young for _what?_ ”

He didn’t want to say it, and he also didn’t want to look at her yet until he knew for sure that it was safe. Zuko kept his eyes covered and mumbled so no one else could hear him. “Could you please just… put your shirt back on?”

“My…?” Mai seemed confused for a moment and grew silent long enough that Zuko had to resist the urge to peek between his fingers to check on her. But just as quickly as she grew silent, she snapped back into the conversation. “ _Spirits_ , Zuko! Why would you think that I’d- yes, my shirt is still on, you can stop hiding behind your hands!”

Very slowly, just in case it was a trap, Zuko began to lower his hand. “So then why were you…”

“I wanted to show you something, but now I don’t know if I want to anymore.” Mai huffed, crossing her arms and turning her back on him. It was too late, though, he’d already seen how red her face was, too. This was probably way more embarrassing for her than it was for him.

“I’m sorry.” He said, hesitating only a moment before taking a seat at the edge of the fountain. If she wanted him to leave then she would tell him. “Can I see?”

Mai still had her back to him. He stared up at her and watched the way her shoulders relaxed when she sighed. “Give me a minute.”

Zuko nodded. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she took another, and another. She didn’t move to face him when she finally spoke again. “Remember a few months ago when we talked about my... betrothal?”

He felt his body grow cold with dread over where this conversation could be going. “I remember.”

“My parents have been really excited about it.” Mai hung her head, her arms falling loosely to her sides. “It’s only a matter of time before they find me a match.”

“What about you?” Zuko asked. “How do you feel about it?”

“I hate it.” She admitted easily. “I hated it before, and I hate it even more now.”

He nodded. “I hate it, too. I still don’t think you should have to do that.”

“But I do.” She sighed. “There’s no way out of this for me.”

Mai sat down heavily on the edge of the fountain next to him. Zuko wasn’t sure how to comfort her in this situation. He inched his hand closer to her and left it just barely touching her fingers. She didn’t move her hand any closer, but she didn’t pull away, either.

“Mai,” his voice was quiet, he inched just a little bit closer, “what were you going to show me?”

She twisted around, her knees bumping against his as she turned. Mai’s hand raised to the loosened neck of her tunic, and she pulled it open even more, exposing her shoulder and collarbone.

Zuko’s eyes went wide, and he resisted the urge to lift his hand and touch the words painted in stark, black ink onto her skin. He was so transfixed by the sight that he almost didn’t take in what the words said or what it even meant that they were there in the first place.

_**She did that for me.** _

“You have a soulmate, Mai?” He tore his gaze away from the mark and looked up at her instead. “That’s great!”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not! I have a soulmate, I’m going to fall in love and never get out of it until I die, and I’m _still_ going to be forced into a marriage with someone else. It’s not _great_ , Zuko, it’s horrible. This was bad before, but everything’s worse now.”

Zuko frowned. He didn't know a lot about soulmates or the customs for arranged marriages, since he'd only known one other person his whole life who had a soulmate. No one would keep a fated pair apart, would they? He knew it was a big element in romance stories and plays, but he'd always thought the concept was just added for drama and was as fictitious as the rest of the tale. Looking at Mai now, though, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Your parents are still going to look for someone for you, huh?" Zuko asked, but the question was rhetorical. The answer was clear on her downcast face.

Mai nodded, anyway. "They are."

"What do you think will happen when you meet your soulmate?"

Mai folded in on herself, covering her face up with her hands and bowing her head so all he could see were the buns in her hair. "I don't know. Nothing? It's not like I could even be with her. I'll either be betrothed or married off at that point and there's nothing I can do about it."

Zuko really didn't like seeing her like this. The last time they'd talked about this, she was upset and angry. Now, she was sad and defeated. She sounded like she was surrendering herself to the life she didn't want, something that would make her unhappy. All he wanted to do was hug her and tell her to keep fighting. Mai was one of the strongest and bravest people he knew, and she deserved so much better.

He wasn't sure if that was something that would actually help her, so he tried to think of something that would. If their roles were reversed, if Zuko was getting a fiance he didn't want and then found out he had a soulmate he _would_ want, what would Mai do to help him?

"You could always kill him." Zuko finally said, as casually as possible.

Mai lifted her head from her hands, her face completely blank. "What?"

"If... if your fiance is gonna be a jerk and not let you be with your soulmate, then you should leave him." Zuko replied, suddenly flustered as he rushed to explain himself as best he could. "And if he keeps trying to stand in the way between you and being happy then... murder is okay."

Mai let out a breath that was almost a laugh, and her hands fell into her lap. "You don't really think that."

"Of course I do!" He insisted, resisting the sudden urge to grab her hand and squeeze it. "I like you a lot and I want you to be happy, Mai."

"Thanks, Zuko." She was almost smiling. Not quite, but it was close. "I think my parents will be even less pleased with me killing my betrothed than they would be if I just ran away with my soulmate."

"Whatever you decide to do is okay." Zuko shrugged. "But if you need help getting rid of the body, then I'm sure I could pull a few strings."

She almost laughed again, and Zuko was proud of himself. That pride quickly slipped away when Mai frowned again. She sighed deeply and stared down at her hands, clasped in her lap.

"I had something else I wanted to say." Mai's voice was barely above a whisper, Zuko had to lean in to hear her. "I think if I don't say it now, I never will."

It seemed like she needed encouragement. Zuko nodded. "Go ahead."

She took a deep breath. Zuko noticed that her cheeks had gone red again.

"Zuko, I… I like you." Mai finally said. "I mean I… _like_ like you. A lot."

There was warmth in his chest, and Zuko felt like he was glowing. It spread up from his heart to his face and down into his stomach, where it felt like a flurry of dragon butterflies had been disturbed. His insides were a garden, and Mai's words were the sun.

He was finally brave enough to put his hand in hers. "I like you, too, Mai."

Zuko looked up at her face, her eyes were huge and she was fighting back a smile. She lost the fight. He'd never seen such a shy look on her face before.

But then she hung her head, and the moment was over. He squeezed her hand in an effort to rekindle that spark of warmth and joy they'd both felt, but nothing happened. The dumb grin he'd been wearing slipped right off his face.

"We can't like each other, though." Mai said, the defeated tone back in her voice. "I'm getting engaged, and I have a soulmate."

"So?"

Mai's head shot back up, she was frowning and her eyebrows were pulled together in confusion. " _So?_ "

"You don't know when you'll be engaged, and you don't know when you'll meet your soulmate." Zuko explained, squeezing her hand once again and intertwining their fingers. "You like me right now, and I like _you_ , so… that's a good thing. Isn't it?"

Mai nodded quickly, her face flushed red but her mouth pressed in a thin line. "Clearly the spirits don't think it matters since they gave me a soulmate on top of all this, though. It's stupid."

"It's not _stupid!_ " He insisted, gripping her hand just the slightest bit tighter and inching so close to her that their legs were touching. “Yes, you have a soulmate and you’re gonna love them forever and ever someday-”

Lu Ten said something similar once. That he would be with his soulmate forever when he finally found them. In a way, he was right.

Lu Ten and Winai were both dead, and their spirits would be together as one in the spirit world until they were reincarnated and split apart again.

Zuko’s heart hurt.

He shook his head, trying to clear the surge of grief that almost overwhelmed him and threatened to spill from his eyes. He closed his eyes tightly shut and took a breath to try to steady himself.

“Zuko?” Mai’s free hand met his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly and opened his eyes as soon as he stopped feeling like he was going to cry. “You’re gonna love your soulmate someday. That doesn’t mean you can’t love- I mean _like_ , anybody else right now. I think you should do whatever you want with whoever you want that makes you happy.”

He glanced up at Mai’s face, she wasn’t really looking at him, her gaze focused on the hand she had on his shoulder. She was still frowning, but it was more of a thoughtful downturn of her mouth and less of a sad one.

Zuko had a feeling that he wasn’t going to convince her no matter what he said right now, but she would probably at least consider it. There wasn’t any more that he could do. He felt a little powerless, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t help her in a way that mattered.

But maybe he could make her feel a little less alone.

“Mai, can I show you something?” He asked. Mai nearly jumped at the sudden request, but nodded anyway.

Zuko wiggled his fingers out of her grip and turned his hand over in hers, so his palm was up. Slowly, he started to pull up his sleeve. As soon as the black edges of the phrase peeked out from beneath the fabric, he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach.

He’d never shown his soulmark to anyone before.

Zuko swallowed back the nerves and shyness over what he was doing. He tugged his sleeve the rest of the way up, exposing his mark to the light of day for the first time. He heard her gasp, but he didn’t look up to gauge her expression.

The hand on his shoulder dropped down to her lap. She grasped his hand with both of hers, raising it closer and turning his wrist so she could read it better. Her thumb was running over the smooth skin of his wrist, an oddly affectionate gesture.

He tore his eyes away from their joined hands. He was so embarrassed and nervous about showing his mark that he felt the heat pricking the corners of his eyes, and he didn't want Mai to see him try to blink it away. It wasn't the fact that he was sharing the mark itself that was embarrassing, though it did make him feel vulnerable and exposed in a way he'd never experienced before, it was the words themselves that made his face grow too warm to hide.

It almost sounded like a line straight out of one of his mother's more _romantic_ dramas. The kind he always begged her not to read only to have his grumbling silenced once the fight scenes started. Unfortunately, there would be no fight scenes here. Just mushy words seared in his brain and painted on his wrist.

_**I could drown in those eyes.** _

"This is kind of sappy." Mai's voice was warm, but barely a mumble as her thumb continued to smooth over the words. Zuko didn't look up, but he thought he could hear the smile in her voice. "I thought you had a hard time with eye contact?"

Zuko nodded. She'd phrased it as a question, but it wasn't like this was a hidden weakness of his. It was an obvious thing that everyone knew, especially those he talked with often. "Father says it's a pitiable show of submission for a prince to lower his gaze from anyone but the fire lord, so I've been practicing. I can keep eye contact for a whole twenty seconds now! Here, see?"

He snapped his eyes up to meet hers, but had to bring them back down at the sheer intensity of her soft gaze on his. Zuko always knew, in the back of his mind, that his mark wasn’t for Mai. Her eyes were pretty, the color of the midday sun obscured behind the rare storm cloud. It didn’t matter how pretty he thought she was, though, he couldn’t drown in the sun.

“I don’t think that was twenty seconds.” She sounded like she was trying not to laugh, but not _at_ him like Azula would if she’d seen him fail so bad at such a simple thing.

Zuko glared down at the ground, the heat refusing to fade from his face. “I’m still working on it.”

Mai’s hand squeezed his, and he looked up at her again, not fully meeting her gaze. She was smiling. “I’m glad I showed you first.”

Zuko’s heart missed a beat.

“Me, too.” He admitted. “You’re the first person who saw mine, too.”

Mai’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Zuko nodded. “I wanted to show Lu Ten first, but then …”

He didn’t need to finish the thought. Mai squeezed his hand again, but she didn’t say anything. They sat together at the edge of the fountain, holding hands in silence. It was nice. Zuko hadn’t felt this warm and pleasant with another person in a long, long time.

“So,” Mai huffed, breaking the tranquil atmosphere between them, “we both have soulmates, and we both like each other. What are we going to do?”

Zuko shrugged. He had no idea what they were supposed to do in this situation. “I still think you should do whatever you want. It’s your life, Mai.”

“What about you, Zuko?” She asked. “It’s your life, too. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Zuko sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “I know I like you, though.”

“I like you, too.” Mai replied easily.

It was still a little embarrassing to hear and to say, but it was getting easier with each admittance. How many times had they both said it during this conversation? Probably way more than necessary. His father was always trying to drill the emotional weakness out of him, if he knew just how many times he’d exposed his feelings to Mai just now, he would be furious. Zuko liked to hear it, though, and he thought Mai did, too, so he supposed just this once he could let it go and say it as many times as he wanted. It could be secret, just between the two of them.

Mai straightened up suddenly, pulling him closer by the hand over to her. She still held his hand in one of hers, but the other went back to his shoulder. Zuko looked at her face again, and her eyes were big with something sparkling behind them. The clouds had parted and the sun was shining through her gaze.

“Zuko.”

“Yes?”

“We like each other.”

Zuko nodded. They had both just said this. “We do.”

“I’m supposed to get engaged soon.”

He nodded again. “You are.”

She shook his shoulder, eyes shining with something Zuko didn’t really understand. “You’re the crown prince.”

He could tell that she was getting at something, but he was confused about what. “I am.”

“Zuko,” she took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. For once, Zuko didn’t feel the need to break contact and just stared right back at her, frozen in place, “marry me.”

His brain shut down. “Um.”

Mai’s entire face turned the deepest shade of red that Zuko’d ever seen, but the light was still in her eyes. “No, listen, this could work! If we get engaged, we can stay together! My parents would _never_ say no to a proposal from the royal family. And this way, I won’t have to worry about what to do when I meet my soulmate-”

“-wait, you’d be okay with _killing me?_ ”

Some of the blush drained from her face as she gave him a look almost as pointed as her knives. “I wouldn’t have to do anything because you’re nice and you’d let me go.”

“How do you know I’d do that?”

“Because you’re you, Zuko.” She shrugged. “And I would do the same for you.”

Zuko nodded. She was right, of course, there really wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would let Mai go and be happy when she finally met her soulmate, no matter how much it might hurt him to do. He just couldn’t understand how she could trust him so implicitly.

“So?” Mai urged, voice tinged with hope. “What do you say?”

Zuko closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and cool the heat in his face. It didn’t matter how many calming breaths he took, though, there was nothing that could wipe the smile off his face.

Zuko took another deep breath and opened his eyes, meeting Mai’s easily. She was waiting for an answer, but he wasn’t sure why. His reply should have been obvious.

“Okay.”

Before he lost his nerve completely, Zuko leaned forward and kissed her cheek. In the grand scheme of things, it was barely anything. Over and done with in the span of seconds. In his heart, though, Zuko knew he’d come back to those few seconds again and again for a long time.

“Let’s get married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you liked the chapter! :D
> 
> I just want to be really clear, the Mai/Zuko in this fic is going to be really minor, but it's gonna be there like how the Sokka/Suki is in the other fic in this series. Sokka/Zuko is of course the endgame ship but I don't want to discount any of the other relationships they have in their lives because they're important, too. 
> 
> Also!!! To be 100% clear!!! They're not getting married any time soon they're just getting themselves betrothed to each other. The current plan for them (after they actually like, convince their parents to let them be engaged for real) is to have them get married at 18. I just felt like I needed to add that.
> 
> Anyway, next time I'm hoping will be our last chapter in the Fire Nation and you know what _that_ means... be warned
> 
> (but seriously thank you again for reading and I hope you have an awesome day) <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiii!!! 
> 
> So this is a pretty long chapter, but with this one we are officially out of the Fire Nation and on to Zuko's banishment. A warning in advance that the end of this chapter _is_ all about the Agni Kai, but I didn't go into detail about it. 
> 
> Other things about this chapter: Uncle Iroh is here finally! I had a very hard time writing the like, two whole proverbs he said during this chapter, but that's a whole different story. 
> 
> Also, a couple people have asked about this and I figured I should actually _say_ it so people know:   
> I'm writing Zuko as autistic. Right now I'm not planning on using the tag, though, since it's not something that's really going to be touched on in the story itself, it's just a part of who he is. (but if that's something people have strong opinions on me tagging, please let me know). Also, if I write anything offensive or negatively stereotypical, please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it! 
> 
> I think that's all I had to say up here, lol. Thank you in advance for reading, I hope you like the chapter! <3

It didn’t take as much effort to convince his father to let them get engaged as he thought. He’d bowed as low as possible to the floor in front of the throne and made his request only hours after he’d left Mai. The warm feeling was still in the pit of his stomach as he pressed his forehead into the cold marble, and in that moment he was willing to do whatever possible to keep that feeling present. 

“Speak.” His father said.

Zuko started to stand.

There was a loud _bang_ that echoed through the throne room as his father’s fist met the side of his throne, and Zuko was brought back down to his knees in shock. 

“I didn’t tell you to stand.” His tone was clipped and harsh. Zuko lowered his head back down. “I told you to speak.” 

“I’m sorry, Father.” Zuko said, raising his voice so he could be heard clearly from the floor. 

“When we’re outside of private quarters, you must address me as Firelord.” Father said. “It’s an act of pure insolence on your part to assume you deserve special treatment simply because you are my son and crown prince.”

If Zuko could have bowed any lower, he would. There was a cold wave of shame smothering the warmth in his chest. “I’m sorry, Fa- Firelord. I meant no disrespect. It won’t happen again.” 

“Good.” The Firelord replied. “Now what did you want?” 

Zuko wasn’t even sure how to word his request. He spoke into the floor, trying to choose his phrasing as carefully as possible. “Azula’s friend Mai is looking for a partner and I’d like to offer my hand.” 

“Ah, yes.” The Firelord hummed thoughtfully from his place above him. “Azula informed me of this. Her family holds quite a bit of power, politically speaking.”

Zuko didn’t dare to raise his head, despite the hope bubbling up inside him. “So you approve?”

“She’s a nonbender, from a family of nonbenders.” He said, not directly answering Zuko’s question. “Given your own weak firebending, I doubt any of your heirs would be capable of bending. That would be a slight against the royal bloodline.” 

Zuko swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He wanted to argue his case for the union to his father, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. He felt like he was failing Mai.

“What-” Zuko’s voice wavered. He took a breath and started again, hoping his voice would come out clearer and more firm. “What would you have me do?” 

“They _do_ have sway over much of the colonies. There may be some benefits to keeping that family firmly under our thumb. An engagement wouldn’t be a bad way to enforce that. But I refuse to let the throne fall to a line of _nonbenders_.” 

Zuko nodded slowly, his forehead rubbing against the cold floor. “Of course.” 

“I will allow this union,” The Firelord finally said. Zuko felt a smile pull on the edge of his mouth both from surprise and joy, “but if any of your children present without a spark, they will be removed from the line of succession.” 

Zuko didn’t raise his head, but his eyes did flick up to the throne high above him. He was outright grinning now, and he couldn’t bring up the mask he usually wore no matter how hard he tried. “Thank you for your kindness and consideration, Firelord.” 

It was the happiest Zuko’d felt in months. 

The process of getting engaged was an extremely formal affair that, despite his excitement over it, was actually pretty stuffy and dull. They were engaged in the summer, the annual trip to Ember Island abandoned in favor of the arrangement. 

Zuko and Mai were dressed in the finest silks, layers of vibrant reds and shining golds. Separately, they were led to the Fire Sage's temple, where they met at the height of noon and knelt side by side under Agni's shining light. 

It was hot inside the temple, and the air was choked with the heavy perfumes they both wore along with the scented oils in their loose hair. Zuko was so busy trying not to sweat too much that he barely even heard what was said during the ceremony, only coming back to his senses when he was directed to face Mai. 

Carefully, Zuko dropped the hairpiece he'd been clutching so tightly in his sweaty hands down into his lap. Mai turned her back to him so he would have an easier time with her hair. He'd never seen it down before, and he marveled at the length of it before daring to touch. 

It was smooth and silky, flowing through his fingers like water. It was also weighed down from the amount of ceremonial oils she'd most likely been doused in, same as him. He wondered briefly how long it would take to wash it all out completely. 

He gathered her hair in his hands and formed the topknot with practiced ease. Completely unintentionally on his part, the style resembled the way his mom used to wear her hair before she disappeared. If Mai noticed, she didn't comment as he slipped the silver flame into her hair. Once it was securely in place, he turned around and let her do the same. 

Her fingers were warm and gentle as they glided through his hair, separating the strands and untangling imaginary knots so she could prolong contact as much as he had when doing hers. He felt when she finally lifted and folded his hair up, cinching the topknot tight with a ribbon before inserting his own crown into his hair. Her fingers strayed on the back of his neck, and when they finally left he could feel the warmth that lingered from the touch. 

They both turned back to the Fire Sage above them, who was reciting a blessing to them. Zuko knew he was supposed to keep his hands folded in his lap, but he couldn't resist the urge to slowly reach out and put his hand on top of Mai's. She didn't pull away. 

They were officially engaged. Simple as that.

Zuko and Mai saw each other less and less after their engagement, which confused Zuko to no end. Azula’s scoffing about it didn’t help clear things up for him at all. 

“Don’t be stupid, Zuzu.” Azula said, rolling her eyes when Zuko questioned her about Mai’s absence. “It’s obvious that Dad thinks you’ll be too distracted to do anything if Mai’s here. You know, since you’re so in love with each other and all.” 

Zuko felt his entire face heat up despite his best efforts to prevent it, but whether he was blushing from embarrassment or anger he wasn’t sure. 

“You could always write to her if you want her to come over.” Ty Lee offered from where she was laying in the shade near Azula. “She’d like that. Hey, look at that cloud! It kind of looks like a dragon.” 

Zuko followed where her finger pointed, and he tilted his head to get the same view as her. He shook his head. “I think it looks more like a starfish eel.” 

“Hm.” Ty Lee wiggled around on the ground and squinted up at the sky. “I can see that. Azula, what do you think it looks like?” 

“I have more important things to do than look at clouds.” She replied haughtily. 

“Oh yeah?” Zuko challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like what?” 

Azula glared back up at him. “Don’t you have some katas to fail at? Or a fiance to write a whiny letter to?” 

“No!” Zuko bristled, annoyed both at Azula and at himself for getting so easily riled up. His hands formed tight fists at his sides, his short nails pressing into his palms. “I’m leaving.” 

He stomped off out of the garden, leaving the two girls behind. Azula, never missing an opportunity to mess with him as much as possible, called after him before he could get too far. 

“Remember to send her all your love and kisses!” 

Zuko gritted his teeth and refused to do that. He could be patient and wait for Mai to visit on her own. She would come eventually, there was no need for him to write her a letter. 

He ended up writing her a letter. It was in a moment of complete weakness on his part, and he was aware of that even as he dipped his brush in the ink to write it. 

It was the anniversary. One whole year had passed since Lu Ten … and then his mother …

He just couldn't be alone right now. 

Zuko thought his uncle would have returned by now. He thought his uncle would have journeyed back from wherever he was to come visit his son. It would hurt, of course It would hurt, but it would hurt worse to leave Lu Ten alone on a day like that. He thought his uncle understood that. 

His absence proved he didn't. 

On the first anniversary of Lu Ten's death, Zuko visited by himself. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do, but he tried his best based on what he remembered reading about the subject of death and spirits. There was no telling what was true and what was false, since most things about the spirit world were speculation at best, but there was a selfish part of him that hoped Lu Ten hadn't moved on yet. He missed him so much, all he wanted to do was talk to him again. 

So he did. He knelt in front of Lu Ten's urn, full of his ashes, and looked at the portrait placed beside it. Lu Ten looked so serious in the portrait, every inch a noble prince, but even in the lines of ink Zuko could almost feel the grin that threatened to break through. He felt his eyes start to water, and he tried not to cry as he lit his incense and unrolled his letter to Lu Ten, detailing every important event that had happened since he was gone. 

He was proud that he managed to hold back most of his tears, only a few shamefully slipped through the cracks. Mostly when he told Lu Ten that he loved him and missed him and when he apologized for not knowing where uncle was. His vision was extra blurry when he burned the letter slowly in his hands once he was done reading it out loud. Zuko blamed the tears clouding his vision on the smoke. 

Mai arrived the following afternoon. Her hair was up in her usual buns, and her expression was her usual face of neutral disinterest. She looked completely normal, like nothing was different. It was comforting in a way that he didn’t expect. 

The two of them took lunch out in the garden, by the turtle duck pond that Zuko liked. They sat close together and talked quietly, but neither of them said anything important. Mai acted like everything was fine, even though the letter Zuko sent her hinted at anything but. He appreciated it. He had a feeling that if she’d treated him any differently than usual he might have broken down completely, and if he did that his pride and dignity would never fully recover. 

A turtle duck climbed into Mai’s lap with no prompting from her. She didn’t look at it, keeping her eyes on him and pretending she didn’t notice it while she stroked its head. She said her parents wanted her to take flower arranging lessons with her aunt, but she wanted to try her hand at archery. Zuko curled his fingers around her free hand and smiled at her. He felt better just having her there. 

It wasn't long after the sun set that Mai had to leave again. He followed her all the way out of the palace and to her little carriage. Mai pulled him into a hug goodbye, and when they pulled apart Zuko tucked a sprig of lilac behind her ear, the little white flowers standing out in contrast against her hair. Then she was gone, and he was alone again. This time it didn’t feel as bad. 

Azula was right about Father thinking Mai was too much of a distraction. Or, as the Firelord put it when Zuko tried his best not to sound like he was begging as he asked about where Mai’s family relocated and _why_ ; Mai was “a crutch for his over emotional heart” and “too much of a weakness” to be kept around so close to him. For those reasons, Mai’s family left the Fire Nation in favor of governing one of the smaller colonies on a little island along the edge of the Earth Kingdom. 

Zuko wanted to write to her, but he hesitated every time before sending off a letter to her. In his experience, sending letters to people he missed never ended well. If Mai wrote him first, though, he would be obligated to reply. In the back of his head there was a long running prayer to the spirits -any spirits who would listen- for Mai to write him first. All she had to do was send a letter. It didn’t even matter what it said, just a sentence would be enough. Just a note. Anything. She could draw a frowny face on the paper in big, bold strokes and that would be enough. He would reply and never stop. 

Mai never sent him anything. 

Zuko turned twelve alone. 

No one told him when his uncle finally returned to the palace. It was weeks after his birthday, the dullness of winter clinging to the breeze longer than usual. It felt like the spring would never come. Zuko was just returning inside from firebending training when he saw him and stopped in his tracks. 

He was gazing out into the courtyard, the sunlight cold and bright as it streamed in through the glass and washed him out. Zuko saw him standing there, still and serene, but it was like he wasn’t even there. 

Looking at him was like looking at a ghost. 

His uncle must have heard him coming, because when his footfalls stopped so abruptly and the silence stretched out between them, his uncle turned his gaze away from nature and onto him. Zuko stared wide eyed back at him, waiting for something to happen. 

Then his uncle smiled. “Hello, nephew.” 

Something inside Zuko snapped. Angry and raw and bitter, boiling in the pit of his stomach and burning up his insides. Zuko felt his body unfreeze from the inside out, and the first thing his now loosened muscles did was scowl back at his uncle. 

Zuko bowed quickly, his shaking hands forming the flame. “Uncle.” 

Before his uncle could say another word, Zuko stood back up and marched past him. He kept his head held high, but his gaze was straight ahead and thus trained away from his uncle. From his peripheral vision, Zuko saw his uncle’s shocked expression and felt just the slightest hint of satisfaction. 

Zuko wasn’t sure exactly what it was about his uncle’s sudden reappearance that sparked such a visceral reaction from him. Whatever it was, it didn’t last, receding to the back of his mind as soon as he was out of sight. All the heat was gone, and he felt cold and hollowed out. He knew he shouldn’t be mad at his uncle, but that was hard to remember when just looking at him stirred up something painful and raging that he was trying so hard to bury. 

Lu Ten wouldn’t like it if he took his anger out on Uncle Iroh, though. Lu Ten had loved him so much, and he would be disappointed to see Zuko treat him badly. 

The best course of action, Zuko decided, was to sink himself even further into his studies and avoid his uncle as much as possible until his anger passed. Then everything could go back to normal. 

Avoiding his uncle was easy at first. The two of them both stay secluded in their own chambers for their own separate reasons. When they _did_ rarely pass each other in the halls or end up in the same room, Uncle Iroh didn’t try to speak to him. He seemed to understand that Zuko didn’t want anything to do with him and was taking that in stride. 

Zuko was working diligently on the things he’d been slacking on. He tried to channel all of his rage into his firebending, and it seemed like it was successful enough. He still felt anger burning under his skin whenever he saw his uncle, and it only seemed to flare with each kata, but it was a good distraction. Plus his bending was better than ever. What did it matter if the fire inside of him never seemed to calm? He was finally getting better at firebending. Father might be proud of his progress at this rate someday.

Now that Mai was gone, he also had to focus on maintaining his expressions in the way a crown prince should. He could still hold onto his stony, neutral expression with ease no matter the situation. The last time he’d practiced it with Azula out in the garden while she taunted him mercilessly, and while her words had made his blood boil, his lack of a reaction made her back off sooner. 

His Lu Ten smile, the one that Mai despised, was having a harder time sticking. He could keep it on for awhile without thinking about it, but the moment he remembered how Mai had yelled at him over it, the smile slipped off his face and looked more like a grimace. It was even harder to practice when he thought about how Mai would react when she returned and found him practicing it still. 

More often than not, he just wore the neutral face. He was wearing it the day his uncle stopped hiding himself in his rooms and came to have dinner with the family for the first time since his return. Zuko was shocked to see him there, and he thought he hid it well enough. Azula’s knowing smirk said otherwise, though. 

Zuko didn’t say anything to Uncle Iroh over dinner, keeping his face as blank as possible as he ate. Uncle Iroh didn’t say anything to him, either, but he did shoot Zuko the occasional glance as if he expected him to do something. Speak or make eye contact or make a face at him. Azula, seated beside their uncle and across from Zuko, seemed to visibly deflate at the lack of entertainment she’d clearly expected to get from them. 

There were no problems that evening, or the next, or the one after that. For every family meal that Uncle Iroh joined them for, Zuko ignored him unless directly addressed. When he _had_ to talk to his uncle, his tone was clipped but still courteous. He smothered the fire in his belly as best he could with rice and fish and looked a little to his uncle’s left to avoid meeting his eyes. He had the same eyes as Lu Ten. 

Despite everything he did, Zuko couldn’t get his emotions to dim in the slightest. After a few weeks, he resolved himself to not having a relationship with his uncle at all anymore. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t change much. They’d never been very close, anyway.

Ignoring him was a small price to pay against lashing out.

Zuko’s plans fell apart on Lu Ten’s second anniversary. It was a warm spring day. The sun was bright in the sky and it felt like a betrayal. In a bold move that no one would have expected from him, Zuko ditched all of his lessons for the day. Instead, he snuck off to visit Lu Ten. 

He was expecting his visit to go the same as last year. Just him and Lu Ten, the incense burning a smoky scent he didn’t recognize as he shakily read through the past year’s events to him. Unlike last year, he wouldn’t cry at all about it. 

When Zuko arrived, he stopped in his tracks. One of his sticks of incense snapped audibly in his tightening grip. He was wrong. This wouldn’t be like last year at all. 

This time, Uncle Iroh was here.

His uncle looked just as shocked to see Zuko there as Zuko was to see him. If they'd thought about it for more than a second though, they would have realized the shock was unfounded. Of course they were both here. Where else would they be, today of all days? 

Uncle Iroh was kneeling in front of Lu Ten’s portrait, a cup of tea steaming lazily in his hands. A second cup sat beside the urn. Zuko took a deep breath, inhaling the delicate scent wafting in the stale air, and took a step forward. Any other time, he would have turned around and left. His uncle probably wanted to be alone, and normally that would work out with Zuko’s plan to avoid his uncle as much as possible. This time he felt he had no choice but to stubbornly move forward. He wasn’t going to leave today. He wanted to be with Lu Ten, too. 

Zuko knelt down in front of the urn, his uncle on his right. He knew his uncle was looking at him, but he made a point to ignore him. Zuko set up his incense and lit it easily with a spark from his fingers. Once it began to smoke, he settled into a comfortable position on his knees. He unrolled his letter, smoothing out the paper between his hands and holding it close to his face so it was easier to read. 

“Prince Zuko?” His uncle interrupted softly before he even had a chance to begin. “What are you doing?” 

Zuko glared at the paper in his hands instead of looking at his uncle. “I’m telling Lu Ten everything that happened this year. He deserves to know.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his uncle nod slowly. “I see.”

Zuko waited for him to say more, but if he had an opinion about what Zuko was doing he decided to keep them to himself. Uncle Iroh took a long sip of his tea and directed his gaze towards the portrait of his son instead. Zuko’s shoulders relaxed and he released a tense breath he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding. 

Gaze firmly on the paper and ignoring his uncle’s presence once again, he launched into the letter.

"Dear Lu Ten," Zuko's voice was quieter and less confident than he would have liked. He continued and hoped his tone would strengthen as he read, "I don't know if you remember Ty Lee, she's a friend of Azula's. Ever since Mai left, Ty Lee and Azula have been a lot closer, I think. But she's been acting a little weirder than usual. I'm worried about her, but I don't know what to do about it. I guess I could see if there's another circus in town and take her to that? We didn't actually do the circus part last time, and I think she was probably the most disappointed about that part of her plan falling through than the rest of it." 

Zuko snuck a glance over to his uncle, but he was just staring at the portrait of Lu Ten and sipping his tea. He was pointedly ignoring Zuko and acting like he wasn't listening to his letter. Maybe he really wasn't. 

"Father sent Mai's family away almost a year ago to a colony near the Earth Kingdom. Father said I can't see her again until we're both of age to be married because being near her makes me too soft. We haven't written to each other at all since she left. I really miss her, which just proves he was right. I hope she still likes me when we see each other again.”

Zuko paused, taking a breath and frowning down at his letter. The year had been pretty quiet, there wasn’t much to talk about. Everything he _had_ talked about so far sounded whiny to his ears, and he was getting more and more conscious of his uncle’s presence beside him. Still, he wanted to stay and talk to Lu Ten for as long as possible. 

As if Uncle Iroh needed to make his presence even more known than it already was, he spoke. “I’m sure she will still like you, nephew. You are such a kind and bright young man, and I’m sure your virtues will only make themselves more known as you mature.” 

Zuko felt his face heat up in an awful mix of embarrassment and rage. He grit his teeth and tried to find his place in the letter. He wasn’t able to get back to it before his uncle continued conversationally, quiet but unhindered.

“It’s nice to know that you have friends you care so much for.” 

“They’re not my friends!” Zuko snapped. Mai and Ty Lee were Azula’s friends, not his. “I do like them, but they’re not my friends. Mai’s my fiance and Ty Lee is her friend.” 

" _Fiance?_ " His uncle repeated, Zuko saw his eyes grow wide in surprise. "When was that decided?" 

"Last year." Zuko replied. Then, before he could stop himself, "You would have known that if you were here." 

"Nephew, that's-" whatever he was going to say, he stopped himself. Zuko sat with his back stiff and rigid, the letter crinkling along the edges in his fists as his uncle took a careful and slow sip of his tea. "A seed planted in the summer may grow into something else entirely by the coming of spring." 

Zuko frowned, turning to fully face his uncle. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" 

"I wasn't engaged until I was much older than you, I was an adult. So was your father, when your mother was brought to him. You seem fond of this girl, but it seems a little… _early_ for a decision as important as who you spend the rest of your life with." 

"Really? Because the spirits have never had a problem with that." 

Uncle Iroh's brow was knit with confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." 

“I have-” Zuko stumbled over his words and snapped his mouth shut, reconsidering. He’d almost told his uncle he had a soulmark without any prompting whatsoever. That wasn’t information he wanted to share with his uncle. Not while he was still so mad. “Lu Ten told me about his soulmark. I think we both know what it means that he’s not here anymore.” 

There was venom in his words he wasn’t used to, it felt like Azula’s voice on one of her worse days. Zuko’s gaze dropped from his uncle’s face before he could see what kind of reaction his tone brought. His shoulders slumped forward, and his hands fell down to his lap. The letter was growing even more wrinkled between his hands. 

Zuko stayed quiet, just waiting for his uncle to say something. The silence seemed to stretch on as Uncle Iroh sipped his tea, not saying a word. Finally, there was a soft _clink_ as his uncle’s now empty teacup was placed on the floor in front of him. 

“I didn’t know he told you that.” His uncle’s voice was as quiet and careful as the way he’d put down the cup. “You’re right, the spirits blessed your cousin with a soulmate and at some point he… met her.” 

He sighed heavily, all the energy in his body seeming to exit with the breath. Zuko couldn’t help but look back up at him, staring at his uncle as his guard finally dropped. His uncle was looking at the portrait of Lu Ten. The portrait of his son. Suddenly, Zuko felt like he was intruding. Unlike when he had ignored his uncle’s presence out of spite to talk to Lu Ten, his uncle genuinely seemed like he no longer knew that Zuko was there at all. 

Zuko wanted to look away. He wanted to leave. Somehow, though, he found himself stuck where he sat.

His eyes were so _sad_.

"Uncle?" On the back of his tongue was an apology, but before it could leave his mouth something else interrupted. "Where did you go?" 

Uncle Iroh turned his sad eyes, _watering eyes_ , away from the portrait of his son and back to Zuko. For a moment, it still felt like he didn't truly see that Zuko was there, but then his eyes cleared and it was like his uncle came back to himself all at once. He picked up the teapot beside him gingerly and poured himself another cup of tea. 

"I was on a journey," he explained softly, lifting the cup and inhaling the steam that wafted to his face, "forgive me for leaving you alone for so long. That must have been hard for you." 

“What are you talking about?” It was Zuko’s turn to be confused. “I’m not alone. Mom’s not here anymore, but father… father still is. You didn’t leave me.”

There was that bitter taste of his held back rage burning in his throat. It slipped between his clenched teeth before he could swallow it down. 

“You left Lu Ten.” 

Zuko’s regret was instantaneous. 

His Uncle inhaled sharply, the cup of tea gripped so tight in his hand it looked like it would crack. “ _Zuko._ ”

His name was said like a warning, and Zuko almost flinched. He’d meant to apologize or even leave his uncle alone with just his thoughts and his son. But Zuko still felt stuck in place, and all of that anger was finally boiling over. 

“Uncle!” He snapped back. “You _did_ , you can’t deny it. Lu Ten’s been right here this whole time and you were somewhere else! Where could you have possibly been for over a year that was more important than him? Why didn’t you just come home? At least _once?_ Why couldn’t you have visited him just _once?_ ”

Uncle Iroh didn’t say anything for a moment. The silence was nearly choking as Zuko watched his uncle with a wary eye and a heaving chest. His uncle took a deep breath and sipped his tea. Unlike Zuko, he was taking his time to gather his thoughts. 

Aside from the frown, his uncle’s face was unreadable. When he finally opened his mouth, Zuko tensed. 

“Nephew,” his voice was grave and did nothing to relax the tension in Zuko’s body, “I’d be careful what you say from now on.”

“Fine.” Zuko gritted his teeth, his eyes dropping to his lap. His hands were fists, and he heard the sound of paper tearing in his grasp. The letter would be almost unreadable now. “But I want an explanation.” 

“And you will have one.” Uncle Iroh nodded. “But I must clear up a misunderstanding with you first. I did _not_ leave anyone. Not you, not Lu Ten. I would never do that.”

Zuko didn’t believe him. “Then where _were_ you?” 

“As I said, I was on a journey.” His uncle took a long, slow sip of his tea. “I was in the spirit world, looking for your cousin.” 

The tension in Zuko’s body broke to the point where he felt like his body sagged against his will as he sat. The anger that had overtaken him faded back to nothing but a little flicker in his stomach. “The whole time?”

His uncle nodded, and his voice was so much softer when he spoke again. “After I brought Lu Ten back to rest here, back home, I spent over a year wandering the spirit world. I had so many things left to say to him. So many things he _needed_ to know. I couldn’t rest until I found him again.” 

“Did you?” Zuko inched closer, his tone mimicking his uncle’s so it was barely above a whisper. “Find him? Talk to him?” 

His uncle’s eyes were liquid with sadness again as he shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. By the time I found where he would have been, he and his soulmate had already departed the spirit world for their next life. So I’m afraid I won’t be able to rest for some time. Possibly the rest of my days.” 

“Oh.” He couldn’t help the disappointment in his tone. He was even more aware of the crumpled paper in his hands. “You could… you could tell him now? Whatever it is, he’d want to hear it, I think.” 

Uncle Iroh turned to the portrait once again, and his face softened. “I think you may be right. Weren’t you doing just that yourself?” 

Zuko nodded, swallowing thickly and glancing down at his practically ruined letter. “He’d want to hear from you more.”

“Nonsense.” His uncle tutted, pouring another cup of tea into a cup he’d had secreted away some place Zuko hadn’t seen. “I’m sure Lu Ten would love nothing more than to hear from us _both_. Why don’t you come and sit beside me? Perhaps have a cup of tea?” 

Uncle Iroh held out the steaming cup to him. Zuko crawled over to him, settling back on his knees at his uncle’s side. He accepted the cup of tea gratefully. The ceramic was warm and comfortable in his hand. 

Zuko took a sip. The tea was… light, and a little floral. It was a warm and familiar taste that he couldn’t quite remember the name of. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, he still wasn’t a big fan of tea, but he didn’t hate it.

He put the cup down next to him and smoothed his letter out on his knees. The paper was still wrinkled beyond repair, and some of the words were too smudged to read properly. “Uncle? I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” His uncle placed his hand on Zuko’s back and rubbed gently. “Even the most sturdy log will crack and burn to ash when consumed by the wildest flames. All that one can hope for is that something new and beautiful will grow from what is left.”

Zuko nodded, but he had no idea what his uncle was talking about. “I’m still sorry. I know you wouldn’t… do that. I know how much he means to you.”

Uncle Iroh didn’t say any more. He didn’t accept the second apology, and Zuko thought that maybe he didn’t deserve to be forgiven for it, anyway. He’d yelled at his uncle and accused him of _abandoning Lu Ten_ right in front of his urn. That wasn’t something that could be easily forgiven. 

His uncle pulled him closer, pressing him into his side. “Finish your letter, nephew.” 

Zuko did. 

He told Lu Ten all about how he was doing a lot better at firebending recently, but no one was as good of a teacher as him. He told him how he was doing alright in the rest of his lessons, but he was working really hard to get better like his father wanted. He was definitely getting a lot better at the tsungi horn, but he still hated playing it.

The older turtle ducks sometimes seemed like they were looking for his mom whenever he came by. It made him sad, but it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who missed her. Azula never wanted to talk about her at all. As far as she was concerned, their mom had never been there at all. Sometimes Zuko spent nights awake wondering where she went and if she was okay. He wondered if she would ever come back. 

Zuko sniffed, and his uncle pulled him just the slightest bit closer. The cup of tea was placed gently back into his hand, and he drank until the cup was empty. He dried his eyes as subtly as possible and continued on to the end of the letter. It was hard to admit it all with his uncle right there, but somehow he was able to stumble his way through the final paragraph. 

He told Lu Ten that he missed him more than anything in the world. Zuko’s eyes were watering again. He told Lu Ten he was trying his best to make him proud with everything he was doing. Zuko told him he loved him. 

He was dragged into his uncle’s chest, pressed tightly into his soft robes. His uncle’s arms felt so nice, squeezing him tight and with a hand patting his back in a way that could only be affectionate. Zuko’s eyes had already been brimming over, but now they overflowed. He couldn’t help himself. It had been a long time since he’d been hugged. 

Zuko stayed in his uncle’s arms for a long time. Even after he cried himself out, he didn’t move. It was embarrassing to admit, but he didn’t want to leave. He was still sad, and his uncle was comfortable. He tried to reason with himself that based on the way his uncle still hadn’t let him go, either, he needed this just as much as Zuko did. 

Eventually, though, he did pull away. Zuko wiped at his eyes to get rid of any evidence he’d been crying. He’d have to keep his head down when he left. Uncle Iroh still had a hand on his back, ready to pull him back in if he needed it. 

Zuko peeled himself completely out of his uncle’s arms and started to stand. He bowed to him, his gaze directed to the floor. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His uncle said. “You’re in pain, and you're grieving, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Zuko nodded, not lifting his eyes from the floor. “At least… at least he died with honor.” 

“No. He didn’t.” Uncle Iroh sighed wearily. Zuko’s eyes snapped up at that, surprised. His uncle was holding his teacup close to him, staring sadly back at the portrait of his son. “He died, but there was no honor in it. There’s no honor to be found in sending one so young to die so violently.”

Something stirred inside him at that. He didn’t know how he was supposed to reply, but he wanted to say _something_. Zuko opened his mouth.

“Thanks for the tea.” 

His uncle smiled, but didn’t look back at him. “Any time.” 

Zuko left. He had a lot to think about.

His relationship with his uncle was… tentative, after that. He didn’t feel angry at him anymore after their talk, but they still weren’t close. Zuko stopped avoiding his uncle, and Uncle Iroh was nothing but kind to him whenever they saw each other. 

For the most part, Zuko went about his life as normal. He spent all of his time studying and training. Occasionally, he took tea with his uncle, who gave him advice about what it meant to be crown prince. Mostly he just told Zuko to do the things he was already doing, but he also told him to take time for himself to do the things he enjoyed. 

So he did just that. He practiced his dao and fed the turtle ducks in the garden pond and sparred with Ty Lee and Azula. Then Ty Lee left for somewhere, and it was just Azula he would spar with. Sparring stopped being as fun after that, so instead he went back to playing hide and seek with her without actually _telling_ her they were playing. He was always really good at sneaking, but he got even better with the increased practice.

By the time he turned thirteen, he read nearly every book and scroll on every subject he could think of that would help him be a good leader in the future. History, military strategy, politics, law, anything he could get his hands on. Some of them he even read more than once. 

(He had to. Whenever father drilled them on what they'd learned, Zuko stumbled over the answer whether he knew it or not. Azula never did, though. Azula always answered instantly, and she was always right. Maybe if he had as much as possible memorized he would be able to answer as automatically and correctly as she could). 

He read so much, but he knew there was more that he had to learn than what was just in the books. Uncle Iroh even said as much once, when he'd corralled Zuko into trying a new blend of tea with him. The best teacher was experience. 

So, Zuko sought to get as much experience as possible.

There was a war meeting. Zuko wanted to sit in and just observe what happened. He wanted to see how an actual meeting was run, how they came up with the decisions that he read all about during his lessons. 

He didn’t know about the meeting ahead of time, so he wasn’t able to ask his father if he could go. He only heard about it from an off handed comment Azula made. He only had enough time to half run to the war room as fast as he could while still maintaining his regal air. 

That didn’t end up mattering, because as soon as he got to the door he was denied entry. Zuko wasn’t _too_ shocked when the guard held an arm out between him and the door. 

“Can you let me in?” Zuko asked, trying in vain to get past the guard. “Please?”

“I’m sorry, Prince Zuko.” The guard at least had the decency to sound regretful as he continued to block all his attempts. “You don’t have permission to be in there.”

“Could you get my fa- the Firelord? I’m sure he’ll let me in if I ask.” 

The guard grimaced. “Forgive me for what I’m about to say, your highness, I mean no disrespect, but I have a feeling you’ll just sneak into the room if I leave to fetch the firelord.”

That was a fair assessment, but he was still a little offended. “If I wanted to sneak in, I would have already!” 

“Nephew!” Uncle Iroh greeted him jovially as he shuffled down the hall towards them. “What seems to be the trouble?” 

“I wanted to sit in during the war meeting so I can learn how to be a good ruler one day.” Zuko explained. “But the guard won’t let me in.”

“I see. Well, if you promise to keep quiet during the meeting then I don’t see a problem with you attending.” He leaned in close to Zuko and whispered conspiringly in his ear. “Some of the older generals are a little sensitive.” 

Zuko nodded. “I can be quiet.” 

“Good.” His uncle grinned and patted his arm. “Come with me.” 

“Thank you, Uncle.” 

The guard stepped to the side, and Zuko followed his uncle into the war room. It was a room that Zuko had wandered into once or twice before (there wasn’t a single inch of the palace that was a secret to him), but never when it was actually in use. The atmosphere felt different now that the room was full of people and lit by flickering flames. 

Zuko took a seat on the floor beside his uncle as the meeting began. He listened intently, but his gaze continued to travel up to where the Firelord sat. He was shrouded in flames, sitting above them and hidden from view. Zuko tried to catch a glimpse of his face, but it was impossible from where he was sitting. He was trying his best to make out his shadowed expression when a general spoke and drew his attention away.

“I think if we really want to overpower the Earth Kingdom’s forces in this area, is to send in our newest division of recruits as a distraction, that way we can launch a surprise attack from the rear.” 

Zuko’s focus snapped fully to the generals surrounding him, all murmuring their agreement at the plan. There was no way he’d heard correctly, right? He must have been too distracted and misheard. No one would ever willingly sacrifice so many troops, so many _people_ , just like that, would they? 

As the people around him sang the praises of the general’s plan, mumbling approvals and talking about the “noble sacrifice of the 41st division”, Zuko’s gaze drifted towards his uncle at his right. Uncle Iroh was staring down at his lap, frowning but not saying a word of protest. In his heart there was a cold dread, and in his stomach a churning inferno as he realized that what he’d heard the first time was right. 

And worst of all, no one was stopping it. Not even his uncle. 

“You can’t do that!” Zuko was back on his feet and yelling before he even had the chance to think about it. “You can’t sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How could you betray them?” 

The room was swallowed by silence as his enraged shouting echoed through the air. Zuko knew he’d broken his promise to his uncle, but he didn’t care about that. Someone had to stand up for these people! 

“Prince Zuko!” The Firelord’s voice boomed and shattered the tensely quiet atmosphere Zuko had created. “Your impudence in challenging the plans of an esteemed general like General Bujing when you are not even supposed to _be here_ is an act of complete disrespect. There is only one way to resolve this insult. You are to fight an Agni Kai.” 

“Fine.” Zuko’s reply was immediate. He rounded on the general still kneeling on the floor and glared down at him. “I’m not afraid. I accept.” 

Zuko stomped his way out of the war room, furious and unwilling to hear any more of what Bujing and the other generals would have to say. He had less than a day to prepare for his Agni Kai, not that he was worried about it at all. He was honest when he said he wasn’t scared. He may not be the best firebender in the world, but the general was even older than his uncle. Zuko figured he could take him or at the very least hold his own against him. 

When Zuko stood at his end of the stage, he felt nothing but calm wash over him. He was ready. He was prepared. He could do this. 

There was a crowd gathering, and towards the front he could see his uncle Iroh and his sister, Azula. She looked excited. Of course she did, if there was one thing she loved it was fighting with fire. Maybe she would actually want to hear all the details from him after this. 

From the way the chattering crowd began to hush, he could tell his opponent had arrived. Zuko took a deep breath. He could feel his fire burning bright and steady inside him. He turned around. 

It wasn’t General Bujing standing on the other side of the stage. 

Zuko’s heart thrummed painfully in his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. 

His father took a step towards him.

“Please, Father, I only had the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn.” 

Zuko stayed still on his end of the stage, but his father continued to advance. “You will fight for your honor.” 

He felt his legs give out beneath him, and he crashed, kneeling, to the floor. His forehead was pressed low to the cold floor. “I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son.” 

His vision was swimming. Zuko didn’t want to cry and beg on this stage in front of everyone, but he didn’t want to fight his father, either. He _couldn’t_ fight his father. 

“Rise and _fight_ , Prince Zuko.” 

“No.” He was right in front of him now, and Zuko was crying. He lifted himself up with his arms, still kneeling. He was shaking badly, barely able to keep himself up as he raised his gaze towards his father. “I won’t fight you.” 

“You will learn respect.” 

His father was towering over him, his hands outstretched. Zuko stared up at him, frightened and shaking, tears streaming down his face as he felt his father’s hand on his head. His fingers grazed his hair and cradled the back of his head, resting at the base of his tied back hair. 

“And suffering will be your teacher.” 

His other hand met his face. It covered his eye and cupped around his ear, almost like he was drying his tears. Or like he was holding him. 

For a moment, all Zuko felt was fear.

Then all he felt was fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be a speedrun of Zuko's banishment period up until the return of the avatar, at which point we'll be up to speed with canon and the chapters will probably be shorter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is coming with its own warnings!  
> This one deals a lot with medical issues (taking place not too long after the Agni Kai) so a lot of this chapter is just about Zuko being in a lot of pain and recovery. 
> 
> The worst of it is in the very beginning of this chapter, but can be skipped if so desired. Start at the paragraph "Then Zuko realized the voice wasn't talking to _him_." and go on ahead a couple paragraphs down to "When he woke up next, everything felt blurry and less painful." 
> 
> Other than that, I think everything else is okay for the most part? If I should add warnings for anything else or maybe up anything with the tags or the warnings, let me know! 
> 
> Also sorry, I know it's been awhile since I posted for this fic, and despite the fact that this whole chapter is just like... pain and I know near nothing about medical stuff this one was a chapter I was really excited to write (mostly because of a particular scene lol). 
> 
> Anyway!! Thank you for reading and for sticking with this so far! Here is a shorter chapter that's just pain basically <3

He was floating. Zuko was floating, and he felt his consciousness wash over him in too hot waves. There wasn’t a single bit of him that didn’t hurt, but sometimes it hurt less. The times that were less painful made his whole body feel heavy and numb, like he was wrapped up in layers of silk. Constricting but not entirely unpleasant.

Even when he was awake, there were things that felt … off. There were things happening around him, but he could never tell what. He was there and he was present, but he was unmoored. There were people around, and sometimes they spoke, and he listened, but he couldn’t tell what was happening or who they were. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus at all. His head was too fuzzy.

“Zuko?” Someone above him asked, voice barely audible through the haze he was in. “Hey, kiddo? You awake? Are you in pain at all?”

He was, both awake and in pain. There was a throbbing, something like a hot, stabbing ache that seemed to center on his face. He tried to open his mouth to say so, but he couldn’t. It was so much work.

“Any noise at all would be helpful, kiddo.”

The only person who’d ever called him kiddo was Lu Ten. He knew it wasn’t Lu Ten talking to him, _couldn’t_ be Lu Ten, but he couldn’t remember why that was so impossible. It didn’t matter, the voice was too different to be him, anyway. He could tell that much from the thickness in his head.

“Okay.” Said the voice that wasn’t Lu Ten. “Okay. I can’t tell anything from this, but I don’t think we can wait any longer. I’m going to have to start now or things might be bad. Are you ready? You might have to hold him down.”

Zuko was confused. Ready for what? There was no way he could hold anyone else down, he couldn’t even force his mouth or his eyes open.

Then he realized the voice wasn’t talking to _him._

There was something touching his face. An odd, foreign sensation on the left side of his face, probing and poking at the skin there. It was mostly numb, but it stung just a little bit. Zuko grit his teeth and set his jaw, even though it hurt a little to do that. It felt weird, but it didn’t hurt that much. He could handle it.

Then the thing poking at his face pierced through, and he couldn’t.

He was screaming. He _knew_ he was screaming. He could feel it tearing at his throat, but it was nothing compared to the excruciating feeling cutting at the skin of his face.

It hurt, it hurt _so much,_ whatever part of him that was numb before was awake and flaring and pained and there was nothing he could do but try to fight it off. He cried, but he tried to stop as soon as the tears fell because somehow that hurt _worse_. Like his tears were dripping fire down his face.

“ _Spirits,_ kiddo I’m sorry.” The voice that wasn’t Lu Ten said, but didn’t stop hurting him. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I thought the drugs were working. I know this hurts a lot, but you need to stay still, I don’t want to cut away anything I don’t have to just _please_ stop moving, it’ll all be over soon if you stop, I promise.”

Zuko didn’t listen. He heard the words, but didn’t care. He wanted everything to be over now and he didn’t care how much he had to struggle against it. Zuko wasn’t fully aware of his actions, but he knew he was kicking and twisting away from the pain as much as he could.

Then he couldn’t move anymore. Someone was holding him down by his wrists. The grip was strong and unyielding as Zuko struggled against it. It felt less like fingers and more like shackles.

“Zuko,” a different voice spoke, low and soft in his ear. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Zuko breath came in a ragged whimper as a particularly sharp cut was made near his eye. The hands squeezed around him tighter, “Zuko, honey it’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I know it hurts now, but this will be over soon. The pain will pass and then never again. I promise.”

Eventually, the pain and his own inability to stop it became too much for him to handle, and he slipped back into the dark.

When he woke up next, everything felt blurry and less painful. There was something pressed into his face, but it was softer this time. All he could feel was the weight of it, nothing else. He almost wanted to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was with just his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his arm to do so.

“When I came back,” the soft voice said quietly to him. Zuko _knew_ this voice, he knew who this person was, but still even with his very limited focus entirely on the person beside him, he couldn’t place it. It was so frustrating. There was a hand on top of his, “I remember I was shocked the first time I saw you again. I couldn’t believe it was really you, at first. You’d gotten so big! So grown up, almost an adult. You’re almost taller than me.”

The voice chuckled, he thought it sounded a little too sad. “I don’t know how I could have been so blind. You’re not grown up, and you’re not big. You’re older, but you’re still so small. You’re still a child.”

The hand squeezed his own. Zuko tried to squeeze back, but it was so much effort just to listen to this voice talk and not drift off to sleep again. There was a soothing quality to it that made him want to do just that.

“You’re also the bravest person I know.” The voice continued. “I was ready to just … sit back and do nothing from now on. I had done my part and I regretted it so badly, I didn’t think there was anything I could do to fix my mistakes. There would be no use in fighting, just more battles I could never win. No changes made. But there you were, standing up for what you believed in and fighting against what you knew was wrong. I hope you know just how strong and brave you are, sweetheart.”

There was only one person who ever called Zuko that. Only one person who would ever talk to him like this, with a voice a lulling comfort at his bedside.

He knew, somewhere in his mind, that there was something _off_ about his conclusion. The voice sounded too different, but he couldn’t place how or why. Instead, he pushed his doubts aside.

The hand squeezed his once more. Softly. Gently. Like they could break him. “That’s all I had to say.”

Then Zuko heard the rustling of fabric, and he felt the fingers around his hand loosen and begin to slide away. He felt a surge of panic at the thought of being alone again and held on as tight as he could.

“Zuko?”

“I love you.” His voice was dry and barely there, just barely a whisper. It was hard to speak, using his voice felt like scraping the inside of his throat. But he had to, no matter how much it hurt him to do it. “Are you leaving again?”

“No.” The hand slid back into his and settled warmly on his palm. “I’m not. And I never will again.”

Zuko smiled and immediately felt himself begin to drift again. It had been years since he’d felt this safe and comforted, not since his mother left. But now she was back, and she would stay with him forever.

He fell asleep like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“-talk to him yet?” The voice that wasn’t Lu Ten spoke softly.

“No.” The other voice, the one that sounded so familiar and comforting, replied. “I spoke to him briefly, but not about that. He’s still healing, it wouldn’t do to inflict more pain on him.”

Zuko felt his hand squeezed in someone else’s, warm and pleasant.

“I understand.” The voice that wasn’t Lu Ten said, then sighed. “This must be so hard. I mean, the avatar? I know the kid’s pretty young still, but he’s too old for spirit tales, isn’t he?”

Zuko opened his mouth, and his voice came out dry and thin. “I’m too old?”

“Oh! You’re awake.” The not Lu Ten voice came closer, he could feel their presence hovering over him. “How are you feeling?”

Truthfully, he wasn’t feeling much of anything. There was a memory of pain, but mostly his head felt weird. He didn’t want to lift it off the pillows or open his eyes or anything. Everything felt heavy. He wasn’t sure how to explain it properly, so he didn’t.

“Kiddo, come _on!_ ” The voice whined. “Talk to me! I can’t do my job if you don’t tell me how you’re feeling. Are you mad at me? Is that it? Look, I’m sorry I called you old! I didn’t mean it! Would I call you kiddo if I thought you were old? Help me out here.”

That last sentence wasn’t directed at him, Zuko could tell that much. He hoped the voices kept talking to each other and not to him. His head was starting to hurt a little and he wanted to go back to sleep.

“You brought this upon yourself.” The other voice -the one he knew- finally spoke again. There was a hint of laughter there, like something funny had happened that Zuko was too out of it to grasp. Then he felt his hand being squeezed again. “Zuko, you are _not_ too old. Story telling transcends _all_ ages, and that includes your classic spirit tale. In fact, if told correctly, I would say they could be considered a form of high art-”

“-I didn’t realize you were so interested in stories, your highness.”

“ _Everyone_ is interested in a good story.” The voice, the one that reminded him so much of his mother but at the same time sounded so _wrong,_ said. “Both in the hearing and the telling of them, I believe. I have a few good stories in me that I’d be willing to tell, myself.”

The hand squeezed his again, like it was the only thing it knew how to do with Zuko’s in its grasp. He didn’t really mind. His grip on the hand tightened just the slightest, he still didn’t have that much strength.

“Could-” he had to stop talking for a moment, to try to clear his throat. His throat was dry and every time he tried to speak his voice cracked and the words felt like coughing up dust. “Could you tell one to me?”

“A story?” The voice repeated. “Oh, Zuko I don’t think you’d like the ones I have.”

“Your throat sounds kinda dry,” interrupted that other voice again, “are you thirsty? Lim the cook brought some broth for you awhile ago if you want to try drinking it.”

His throat _was_ really dry. He wanted to drink whatever it was being offered to him, but he didn’t want to try to sit up. He wasn’t sure if he _could_ sit up, much less hold a bowl and drink from it.

“I think she’s right.” Agreed the voice as Zuko squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. The light in the room was starting to hurt, even behind his eyelids. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since we boarded. You need to eat to regain your strength.”

The hand moved away from his, leaving Zuko’s palm cold and empty. Already he missed the contact. The hand wasn’t gone for long, though, the warm pressure returning to him through rubbing his shoulder.

“Do you want me to help?” The voice asked gently. “I could hold the bowl for you, if you like.”

He thought his options over carefully, or as carefully as he could with his head still swimming. Eventually, he gave in to the burning in his throat and the emptiness in his stomach he was only vaguely aware of. He nodded, and the motion made him dizzy.

The hand on his shoulder made a smooth transition to his back, and there was another less familiar hand under his other arm that gingerly helped him sit up. His eyes were still closed, and he told himself not to freak out about being touched and handled by other people. Zuko couldn’t hold himself upright very well, and when the other hand pulled back, one remained on his back to help hold him. Somehow he ended up slumped against something soft. It took him a moment to realize it was a person he was sinking into, his right ear pressed directly to their chest. He could hear the steady beating of their heart on his face, and it was oddly comforting.

There was something pressed against his lips, and Zuko opened his mouth just the slightest bit. Lukewarm broth trickled into his mouth slow enough for him to swallow it without choking or having the taste linger too long on his tongue. For that, he was grateful.

He wasn’t able to finish the broth. One moment he was doing okay and the next he felt nauseous and wanted to lie down again. Zuko raised his hand and pushed the bowl away. His feeble attempt at movement didn’t really succeed, but the person holding the bowl understood what he meant and put the bowl down. Zuko leaned all his weight into the person holding him. They were warm and soft and _achingly_ familiar.

“Zuko?” He was pulled in closer as the voice whispered against the top of his head. “You seem tired, did you want to go back to sleep?”

He nodded and buried the right side of his face into the other person’s chest. They seemed okay with it, and he really wanted the contact right now.

“You said I’m not too old for spirit tales.” He mumbled, feeling too bad and tired to be embarrassed about what he was asking for. “Can I still have one?”

“Of course.” Their tone was obliging and dripping with affection. “Whatever you want.”

“The one about the pearl diver?” He asked tentatively, making himself as comfortable as possible against the other person.

Zuko still hadn’t opened his eyes at all, but he could still feel his eyelids growing heavy. He didn’t think he could open them even if he wanted to.

“Ah, yes. A classic.” The voice laughed softly, and he could feel the warm breath against the top of his head, breezing through his hair. “You and your sister both liked that one.”

He liked the story well enough, but when Azula was little it was her favorite one. She used to make Zuko tell it to her three or four times a week. He’d told it so much he knew the whole thing word for word and could still recite it from memory if need be. Not that anyone ever asked him to, because Azula didn’t like spirit tales anymore. She didn’t like _him_ very much anymore, either.

That might be his own fault, though. He told her he hated her. He didn’t mean it, not at the time and not _now,_ either, but he’d still said it.

Did he apologize for that?

He couldn’t remember.

Zuko hoped he saw her again soon. All he wanted to do was see her. Apologize to her. Sit close. He knew he was really hurt and he felt really bad, maybe she’d let him hold her hand? Just this once?

“Once, before the nations were nations, there was a pearl diver called Mizu.” The voice began, and Zuko felt himself sink into the comforting familiarity of the story. “Mizu was very good at his job, but despite this he was still a poor man. He lived in a little village by the sea, and had to travel to the nearest city to find anyone rich enough and willing to buy his precious wares. He made enough money to travel to and from the city easily, but not enough to live on for long. His beloved toiled daily in the fields, bringing home basketfuls of food with her as payment. The work was hard on her body, though, and every day Mizu would help her lie down to rest until she had to rise with the sun and return to work the following day. Every day when Mizu was out at sea or away from her on the road, he dreamed about the day he could finally settle down with her and spend all their time together without the burden of food or finance keeping them from their love and happiness.”

Zuko’s fingers curled around a bit of soft fabric, and he tried not to yawn. The story had only just started, and he wanted to stay awake for it even if that felt like the most difficult thing in the world to do.

“One afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky and the sea was sparkling, Mizu thought about his beloved and how much she meant to him, and dove down deep into the waves. He sank down to the bottom of the sea floor and reached out to retrieve the oyster snails. He managed to scoop up three or four of them before he felt he had to go back up for air, but just as he was about to break for the surface, something else caught his eye.

In the water, nestled between the oyster snails, was a pearl. A single, large pearl the size of his palm, perfectly round and glowing iridescent in the dark water. Mizu picked it up. It was heavy in his hand, but not too heavy that he couldn’t carry it with him. He swam to the surface and returned home with his prizes, the pearl a warm weight rolling in his hands as he waited for his love to return home.”

“Umi.” Zuko mumbled, reluctant to interrupt but unable to stop himself.

“What was that, Zuko?” The voice asked. He could feel a hand gently stroking up and down his arm. “Do you need anything?”

He shook his head, but had to stop the action quickly because it made him light headed. “Mizu’s beloved. Her name’s Umi, remember?”

“Ah, of course, you’re right. I’m sorry I forgot.” Zuko’s arm was squeezed gently. “Now where were we?”

“Mizu’s gonna give the pearl to Umi.” He supplied.

“Ah, yes, thank you. Mizu’s belo- I mean, Umi - returned home late in the evening to find him seated on the floor, eyes fixed on the pearl he still held in his hands. There were no candles lit, the only light in the room coming from the pearl. She asked him what he was holding, but aside from the obvious answer, he was just as lost about what it really was. Whatever it was, he knew it was meant for her. He’d been thinking of her when he found it, and he’d been thinking of her ever since. Umi was reluctant at first, but when Mizu pressed her to take it, she accepted. Mizu put her hair up into an intricate braid, incorporating the pearl inside. As soon as the pearl was fixed in place, he felt connected to her in a way he’d never felt before.”

The next part was when things got more interesting, Zuko remembered. He was practically bursting with anticipation.

“Then night fell, and the sun sank, but the moon did not rise in its place. In the sky there were only stars. Mizu and Umi thought nothing of it, at first. They hadn’t been keeping track of the cycle of the moon, so it was possible it was simply a new moon. But then the next night, and the next, the moon remained unseen. Not only was the moon different, but so was the sea. Every time Mizu tried to go out to the water, the waves were far too choppy and dangerous for him to leave his boat without risking his life. What was even more odd was that this only happened when he tried, but the same could not be said for the other divers and fishermen. The sea was mad at Mizu, and he couldn’t determine why. But, he thought, it might have something to do with the missing moon.

Later in the week, the couple visited a respected fortune teller in their village. Mizu told the fortune teller about the pearl he found, and everything that had happened since then. The fortune teller asked to see the pearl in question. It was still in Umi’s hair, so she turned her head to the fortune teller and showed it to her. The way it glowed was barely visible in the candle light. Once the fortune teller saw it, she was able to tell them exactly what the problem was.

The pearl, she explained, wasn’t a pearl at all. It was the reflection of the moon, gifted to La from Tui herself. The moon and the ocean spirits were in love, and the ocean was constantly trying to meet the moon high in the sky through the waves. The only times the two ever met were when the moon rose and when it fell again each day, briefly kissing the waves as she did. For the two lovers, it wasn’t enough. The two were together, but they were also lonely, only able to see each other from afar. So, one day Tui asked her brother, Agni, for help. She knew Agni had been in a similar situation, and thus might be able to aid her in a way the other spirits could not. Agni felt for his sister’s plight, and thus helped her fashion a small orb from her surface imbued with the ability to reflect his light, much like Tui did. Tui offered the gift to La, who accepted it gladly and hid it deep within the waters someplace no one would ever find it. Some of the creatures who dwelled in La, the oyster snails and the starfish clams and the like, saw the fragment of the moon and were so moved by their love for one another that they were able to create their own visions of the reflection themselves. Tui’s gift to La is what Mizu had taken, and gifted to his own lover, Umi. For that, the spirits were upset.”

They were reaching the end of the story. That was always his mom’s favorite part. Honestly, Zuko really only liked the story because his mom always liked to tell it the most. No matter how bad a day it had been for either of them, she always smiled at the end of it. Then she’d squeeze him tight and kiss the top of his head, and he’d go to sleep easily.

“Mizu and Umi, now aware of the pain they had caused the spirits, knew exactly what they had to do.”

In his head, Zuko heard his mom’s voice, soft and sweet as she recited the ending to the story from memory.

_“Mizu was an understanding man, but he was also aware of his own circumstances. He took the piece of Tui back from Umi and set off across the water in his boat. When he was far away from shore, he held it out to the water, letting it skim the surface tantalizingly. To the waves and the spirit housed within, he made a bargain._

_‘Give me all the pearls and treasures you hold,’ he said, ‘and I will return this to you.’_

_And La replied, ‘What power do you think you hold over me? What is stopping me from capsizing your boat and drowning you this very moment?’_

_Mizu answered the question easily, ‘Love. For years I have been gathering up pearls, the pale imitation of the love between you and Tui, for my own beloved. Much like you can’t bear to be apart from the moon, I can not bear to be away from my dearest Umi. I am sure you understand. If you do this for me, I will never have to part with her again, and I will stay away from you and your beloved forever.’_

_La did, knowing the pain of distance and separation all too well. So, La sent a wave full of the treasures from the deepest depths of the ocean crashing into Mizu’s boat, then sent him on his way. Mizu dropped Tui’s gift back into the water and thanked him, but La didn’t respond._

_When he returned to shore, Mizu braided jewels and pearls into Umi’s hair, and he kissed her, and the two returned home. They took their treasures and retired to a little village far into the land. The two were happy, and Mizu never stepped foot into the sea again.”_

This was the ending that Zuko knew. This was the one his mom loved.

It was not the ending he got.

The voice, morphed someplace between his mom’s and something else, continued the story. “Mizu was an understanding man, and well aware of his circumstances. He didn’t want to incur the wrath of the spirits and anger them more than he already had. So, he unbraided Tui’s gift from his beloved’s hair and returned it to La, where it belonged. As he rowed back to shore, he apologized profusely to the two spirits. The moon rose, and the waves stilled. Mizu reached the shore, and all was right with the world once again.”

Zuko frowned, waiting for the story to continue. Somehow, though, the voice stayed silent. There was confusion and dread building up inside him. This wasn’t the story he was used to, and more than that, this wasn’t the voice he was used to, either.

Before he could make sense of any of it, though, he wiggled around in the person’s grip and spoke, his accusation barely above a whisper. “That’s not how you told it before.”

“What do you mean?” The voice asked, sounding confused and less like his mom the more he focused on it. “That’s the version I always heard.”

“Me, too.” Supplied the other voice. He’d forgotten there was another person there. Why were they there, anyway? Something cold and really dry met his forehead, and Zuko almost flinched. “Oh, kiddo, you’re burning up pretty bad.”

“Don’t call me kiddo.” Zuko mumbled. He already knew this person wasn’t Lu Ten, he didn’t like that they kept calling him that.

“Ah, my apologies. Zuko, then. You have a fever, and it seems like it’ll get pretty bad, soon. I’m going to get some more towels, but your uncle will be staying _right here_ in case you need anything. So don’t hesitate to ask.”

“My uncle?” Zuko repeated, cracking open his eye in confusion. When had his uncle gotten here?

“Yes.” Replied the voice that was familiar and comforting and _not his mom at all._ Uncle Iroh squeezed his arm gently. “I’m right here. I’ve been right here the whole time.”

“He’s pretty feverish,” said the other voice that Zuko still didn’t know, “he might have thought you were someone else.”

“Zuko,” at the sound of the worry in his voice and the blurry image of his face, everything finally slotted into place, “nephew, who did you think I was?”

“No one.” Zuko closed his eye and tried to go to sleep. Maybe in his dreams, he would forget. “It’s not important.”

Eventually, when the fever broke and the haze from the drugs wore off, Zuko returned to himself. According to Akemi, the medic who frequented the room the most aside from his uncle, it had been _days_ since he was last conscious, and even more since he was coherent.

"So, now that you're back with us, kiddo, how are you feeling?" She asked, taking a seat beside where he was laying.

He opened his mouth to tell her to stop calling him that, but closed it again when he remembered he'd already done that. The memory was a little gray around the edges and wavered like a dream, but it was there. Clearly, she wasn't too concerned about what he wanted.

"My head hurts." He replied instead.

Zuko frowned at the sound of his own voice. His throat was a little dry, and his voice came out thin and crackling. Even knowing that, something else about it just felt _off._

A lot of things felt off lately.

"Okay, I'll need you to be more specific." Akemi said. "Do you mean your _head_ or your _face?_ If you have a headache then that’s easy enough to deal with, but if it’s your face I might have to do a quick check and make sure everything’s okay under there.”

Zuko continued to frown, furrowing his brow in confusion. Something in the action pulled at his skin in a way that stung badly, and for the first time since he woke up he was aware of a soft weight on the left side of his face. Whatever it was made that side of his face feel burning and itchy and a little damp. It felt gross and he didn’t want it on anymore.

“Can you take this off?” He asked, gesturing towards his face but not daring to touch whatever it was. “It hurts.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “So your face, then. That’s not a problem, it was about time to change your bandages and let the wound breathe a little, anyway.”

Her hands were raised and approached him with practiced slowness. Zuko held his breath, waiting for the touch and trying not to flinch. Before her hands actually had the chance to brush against his face, though, she paused.

“I’m gonna warn you ahead of time, kiddo,” Akemi said gently, “it’s going to hurt a lot. Are you ready?”

Zuko glared back at her. What kind of question was that? He wasn’t a baby, he didn’t _need_ to be told when something was going to be painful. He was more than okay with her just taking off the bandages and getting it all over with.

Akemi’s fingers twitched slightly in front of his face, but didn’t move any closer. Zuko looked at her, and it was clear from her pursed lips and raised eyebrows that she was unphased by his expression. She would only listen to verbal confirmation.

Zuko grit his teeth in annoyance and nodded. “Do it.”

She nodded and got to work removing the bandages from his face. Her fingers were slowly, and he could barely feel the brush of them against him. He didn’t like how long it was taking her to remove the bandages, but as his skin was gingerly exposed to the cold air surrounding him, he understood her reluctance. He tried his best not to squirm or push her hand away with every layer of gauze and cloth.

She was right, his face was hot and it was throbbing and it _hurt_. It was stinging and raw and open, and as the last pad of gauze was lifted carefully from his eye, he became aware of something sticky and awful all across the side of his face. He wanted to touch it, grab a wet cloth and rub it clean until he stopped feeling gross and bad and it stopped hurting.

If the air hurt so much, though, how bad would it feel to touch?

Just the thought of it made him grimace. And, as it turned out, grimacing pulled sharply at the skin of his wound. He missed the bandages keeping that part of his face stiff and unmoving beneath their weight.

“It looks a little inflamed, but otherwise I don’t think it’s too bad. The fact that you’re able to open and close the eye is a good sign.” She said. Zuko almost felt like she was talking to herself before she addressed him. “Are you doing okay? Do you want me to get your uncle before I check your eye and ear?”

He shook his head, annoyed that she would even ask something like that. Zuko was _thirteen_ , practically an adult. Whatever she had to say, she could say to him alone. He could handle it.

“Alright.” She nodded. “Here, follow my finger with your eyes.”

Akemi held up her finger close to his face and slowly moved it, left to right. Zuko kept his head still and did his best to only use his eyes to follow it. After going back and forth a few times, she stopped and lowered her hand.

“It’s probably a little too early into your recovery to say if it’s … _permanent_ or not, but from what I can tell some of the vision in your left eye is damaged.”

Her mouth kept moving, but Zuko couldn’t hear her anymore.

Damaged. His eye was damaged. He couldn’t see correctly anymore and he was in so much pain he hadn’t even noticed.

“-ko? Zuko, did you hear me?”

He hadn’t, but he nodded anyway. She smiled at him, it was soft and didn’t reach her eyes. Speaking of eyes … she wasn’t looking directly at him.

“Wha-” his voice came out too quiet. He cleared his throat and tried again, but when he continued it still sounded rough. “What does it look like? My face?”

The smile slipped easily off her, like it was barely stuck on there in the first place. “Like I said, it’s inflamed. It’s still healing, so I can’t say anything for certain about it.”

It seemed like she was going to say something more, but then she closed her mouth. Zuko stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Her mouth thinned into a line, but then she sighed and shook her head, the hesitance gone.

“There’s no good way to say this, but it’s going to scar. I don’t know how badly, but it’s going to end up being pretty big even if it does heal well. I’m really sorry.”

She didn’t _sound_ sorry, and she wasn’t looking at him at all anymore, either. There was something that flared up inside him when he realized that her eyes were on the ground. Was it really _that_ hard to look at him?

“Are you done?”

She jumped and looked at him, eyes wide in surprise. Her eyes finally met his, but they didn’t stay there long before drifting off to just above his head. He knew avoidance when he saw it, since it was one of the exact things his father had worked hard to rid him of. Zuko, annoyed, continued to glare at her.

“I still wanted to check your ear properly, but if you’re not up for it then we can do it later.” Akemi shrugged.

“Then get out.”

Her eyebrows disappeared under her bangs. “Even if we don’t check your ear, I still need to rebandage-”

“No.” Zuko interrupted firmly. “You don’t. Leave it.”

“Kiddo, it could get infected if I don’t-”

“I don’t care!” He yelled back at her. “Get out and leave me alone!”

Zuko looked around for something, anything he could throw at her to make her go away. His hand gripped around _something_ behind him, and before he could even think about what it was he threw it at her.

His aim was off, so the pillow he threw at her landed uselessly on the floor beside her. She looked down at it and prodded at it with her foot. Zuko stayed where he sat up in bed, back straighter than before now that he didn’t have a pillow to lean against. She glanced back up at him, and there was almost a smile on her face. As if this was something _funny._

That, for some reason, was the thing that finally broke him down and left him seething with rage. “ _Out!_ ”

Finally, _finally,_ she left. The door closed behind her. Zuko was alone.

The anger faded down to a little flickering flame in his gut. It wasn’t gone, but it was lesser. Zuko groaned, all the energy draining from him. He wanted to drop his face into his hands, but he knew just from the way the air stung painfully at his left side it wouldn’t go well. He couldn’t lean back, either, because his pillow was still on the floor.

He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, leaning his chin between them and staring at the empty walls surrounding him. The room felt simultaneously too big and claustrophobically small. Physically, he could tell it was smaller than his room in the palace. Most rooms were, an excess of space was one of those perks that came with being a prince. Unlike all those other rooms, this one was practically bare. The only things in it were the bed he was using and a little table beside him that only held a lit candle.

With nothing else to look at, he focused his attention on the little wavering flame of the candle. He didn’t meditate to it, and he didn’t reach out with his chi to take hold of it, either. He simply watched the tiny fire and the dripping wax.

The candle was nearly a puddle when the knock came to his door. Zuko huffed agitatedly to himself and hugged his knees closer, but didn’t answer. They would probably leave if he didn’t respond.

“Nephew?” The voice behind the door was muffled but was unmistakably his uncle Iroh. “Are you awake?”

Zuko bit back the urge to shout at his uncle to leave him alone. Knowing his uncle, he might see it as an invitation to enter. If he thought he was asleep, he might not.

Unfortunately, Zuko miscalculated. “I’m coming in.”

Uncle Iroh pushed the door open with his shoulder, his hands being otherwise occupied with a tray. On the tray was a teapot and two cups, a sight so familiar that it almost felt wrong in the strange room.

“Ah!” His uncle brightened instantly when he saw him. “Good, you’re awake! This old man was worried he would have to take his tea alone.”

Uncle Iroh bustled over to the little table beside the bed, lowering the tray down gingerly on top of it. He then made himself busy with the teapot, picking it up and pouring both cups carefully as Zuko glared at him.

“Here.” Uncle Iroh pressed a teacup to his hands before he could object. “You might like this one. The flavor is delicate, but it’s on the sweeter side.”

Zuko accepted the cup, but didn’t drink it. He grit his teeth and turned his glare down to the tea, since his uncle seemed to be ignoring it just as easily as Akemi had.

Uncle Iroh patted the edge of the bed, around where Zuko’s feet were. “Do you mind if I sit?”

Zuko wanted to say no. He wanted to throw his cup of tea at the wall and yell at his uncle to leave him alone. He wanted to kick him out of the room and he wanted to set the bed on fire and he wanted to scream until his lungs hurt as much as the rest of him did.

Before he even had the chance to open his mouth, though, his uncle spotted the pillow he’d thrown on the floor. He put his cup of tea down and stooped to pick it up, fluffing it and brushing off any dirt or dust off it as he stood back up.

“Here, lean forward.” His uncle urged. Zuko complied without really thinking about it, and his uncle propped the pillow up behind him. As he pulled away, he patted Zuko’s shoulder gently. “There.”

He uncurled himself from around his legs and leaned back against the pillow. At some point when he hadn’t been paying attention, his body had gone stiff. The change in position felt a thousand times more comfortable. As a thank you, he begrudgingly let his uncle sit beside him on the bed.

Uncle Iroh sat down and sipped his tea slowly. Zuko didn’t, he just held the small cup with both his hands and alternated his gaze between his uncle and the tea.

“I ran into the medic on my way here.” He said softly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to wear the bandages, but if that’s what you choose to do, we’re going to have to take some precautionary measures. There are a few different creams we can apply to it, and we’re still going to have to cover it up, just because it shouldn’t be so openly exposed while it heals. It doesn’t have to be bandages, a cloth or any other kind of covering should be fine, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Zuko glared at his tea and grumbled down to the cup. “I don’t _have_ a problem with the bandages.”

“You don’t?” There was the slightest frown on his uncle’s face. “Then what is it that has you so upset?”

Zuko looked back at the teacup, his grip tightening around the too fragile clay. If he wasn’t careful, it might crack. “I’m not upset.”

“That’s not what I heard from Akemi.” Uncle sighed and sipped at his own cup of tea. “Nephew, it’s alright if you’d rather not talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, but if you’d like to unburden yourself I’d be happy to listen. The humble ant beetle risks being crushed beneath the weight it carries if it does not share it with its colony.”

Zuko frowned, more out of confusion than anger. The shift in expression stung the injured part of his face. He tried to ignore it. “What are you saying?”

The smile returned to his uncle’s face, and he patted Zuko’s leg as he chuckled under his breath. “Nothing, nothing. Have you tried the tea yet?”

He really didn’t want to drink it, but Uncle Iroh kept looking at him and waiting for his reaction. There wasn’t a way out of this that he could see, so he rolled his eyes and took a sip. It wasn’t … bad. It was definitely one he was unfamiliar with, though. He didn’t think he liked it very much.

“Still not a fan?”

He shook his head, and Uncle smiled at him softly. Zuko wasn’t sure why he was looking at him like that, but he didn’t think he would get a real answer if he asked. He dropped his gaze back to the teacup.

“One day I’ll find a blend you enjoy.” Uncle Iroh promised. “I’ll make a tea drinker out of you yet.”

Zuko made a face. He noticed, then, that it was reflected in the surface of his tea. “Don’t.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, Prince Zuko, but you aren’t able to stop me on this one.” Uncle laughed and rose slowly from the bed. “Finish your tea. I’ll go get Akemi, if you’re really not opposed to the bandages.”

“I’m _not._ ” Zuko repeated insistently. He hesitated a moment, glancing down at his reflection swimming in the pale yellow. “I don’t want to see Akemi, though.”

“Oh?” Uncle paused gathering up his things and turned to face him. “And why is that? She seems pleasant enough. Did something happen? Did she do or say anything to you that made you uncomfortable?”

“I- no. Nothing.” He wanted to put the cup of tea down and wrap his arms back around his legs. Instead he just held the cup a little tighter and continued to stare down into it. At his face.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“We were talking but she-” He felt stupid just saying it out loud, but it did hurt a little. His voice came out quiet, like he didn’t want his uncle to hear. Maybe he really didn’t want that. “She wouldn’t look at me.”

“She wouldn’t look at you?” Uncle repeated just as quietly. The bed dipped slightly under his added weight as he sat back down.

“Not my… not at my face.” Zuko pried one hand loose from around the cup and gestured towards the part that still stung. “She looked everywhere but me.”

“Oh, nephew.” His uncle sighed, and Zuko felt a hand rub up and down his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“She wouldn’t tell me what it looked like, either.” He admitted bitterly before he could stop himself. “All she said was that it’ll scar. You’ll tell me, though, right? How bad is it?”

Zuko turned to look at his uncle, prying his eyes away from the tea for the first time. When he met his uncle’s gaze, though, his uncle… flinched.

It was barely a movement, but it was _there._ It was enough.

Zuko looked back down at his teacup.

“It’s not that bad.” Uncle Iroh lied as he squeezed his bicep. Zuko would have believed him if he hadn’t seen that _look_ on his face. “I’ve seen far worse, in my time.”

“You were a general for _years,_ Uncle.” Zuko muttered down to his folded hands. “Of course you’ve seen worse.”

He believed that part, at least, but it was hard to take comfort in the fact that his face wasn’t the most gruesome thing a seasoned soldier had seen.

“You know what? You’re right.” The hand was removed from his arm, and the lack of contact left Zuko’s arm feeling colder from the loss. “You still seem upset, though. Here, why don’t you finish your tea, get some rest, and I’ll come by later with Akemi to get those bandages reapplied. How’s that sound?”

“I’ve been resting since I got here.” He grumbled. Still, he sipped his tea like his uncle asked.

“And you will continue to rest until Akemi says it’s okay.” Uncle replied, rising to his feet and plucking the now empty cup from Zuko’s hands. “Did you want to lie down?”

Zuko shook his head. “No.”

“Alright. Rest well, nephew.”

Uncle exited the room, closing the door tightly shut behind him. Zuko was, once again, alone. Unlike last time, it didn’t feel like much of an accomplishment. His head felt too full for it to be anything but a drawback.

Zuko looked down at his hands. He pushed up the sleeves of a robe he couldn’t remember putting on. He looked down at his wrist. Rubbed the words on it with his thumb.

People couldn’t look at his face anymore. They couldn’t look at his eyes for very long.

He understood why when he looked in the teacup.

He screwed up. Somehow, someway, he’d screwed everything up so badly it altered the course of _his own_ fate.

 _ **I could drown in those eyes**_ his wrist said.

Zuko stroked the words on his wrist, and he knew that everything was wrong now. It was never going to happen. There was no way to fix this.

He'd seen his own face. All he'd wanted to do was look away.

He’d never meet those eyes.

He still felt like he was drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you liked it <3 
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be more chill in comparison to everything that just happened. I'm planning on getting Zuko's entire pre-meeting the avatar banishment condensed down to one chapter, but... we'll see how that goes lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading!! This series is my first try at writing atla so I hope it's turning out okay! Comments and kudos are of course _always_ appreciated, but only if you want to ;) 
> 
> So far I think this series is gonna get...kinda long... so if you ever want to talk about stuff that's gonna happen in it or just talk about anything at all, you can hit me up on my tumblr, [tumblr](https://destyni-is-me.tumblr.com/rel=) and I'd be happy to answer questions or chat or anything <3


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